


Never Tear us Apart

by Kagemirai, Ranranbolly



Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Bloodletting, Bloodlust, Cowboys, Deceit, F/M, Gunslinging, Literally in the closet, M/M, Man's Best Friend - Freeform, Reincarnation, Revenge, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Wild West, faustian bargains, horse theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-06-22 06:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19661683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagemirai/pseuds/Kagemirai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranranbolly/pseuds/Ranranbolly
Summary: Before the hotel sunk into the earth, when the lost boys were human, they had one more member of their gang. Long dead, they never thought they'd be reunited with their fifth brother. Then the Emersons came to Santa Carla, and everything changed.





	1. The First Dream

They were lucky. The guy who was supposed to be watching the stables got sloshed after a couple of drinks and passed out just in time for the boys to show up. Jasper hated playing the drifter role, but better people only recognized one of their faces after they pulled a job than all of them. He'd just grow a beard later until they were far enough for the law not to give a damn.

He'd just finished rolling his cigarette when he heard them coming, or rather saw. Somehow Paul wasn't making an ass of himself tonight and pissing Marko off. It helped that David led the way and Dwayne followed behind all of them to keep an eye out. The tall grass around them whispered as they approached the stable together, quietly leading their rides, including Jasper's. He licked the cigarette wrapper and sealed it, tucking it behind his ear as he removed his hat and waved three times to signal them closer. Two times would mean 'beat it'.

David moved up beside him, "ready?" His voice was soft, only audible to Jasper, while his eyes were locked on the small corral. Four horses meandered inside it, chewing on hay and grass.

Jasper was the best one for the job, he had a way with them that none of the others did. He was able to get right up to a weary horse and it would be more than happy to let him lead it away. Even ones that were completely untrained became docile under Jasper's hands.

Giving one last look to the passed-out idiot in the stable, Jasper nodded. They'd been doing this kinda shit for about two years now, and it got easier every time. "Are we heading for the border this time, or just the next county?" He asked, taking the cigarette he'd tucked away and offering it to David as he put his hat back on his head. They weren't too far from the coast now. Only about a day or two's ride.

David took it, looking toward the horizon, "next county, should be fine there, do another job or two, then head for the border until things die down."

"You figure out what the first town we're gonna hit is called?" Jasper asked, beginning his approach through the whispering grasses towards their quarry. Should get some good money off of this job. Enough to last them a while.

"Santa Carla, I think. Looks like they got some big money moving in there." David whispered, moving forward with him.

They could easily hock these horses in a town with new money. They weren't even branded properly yet, which made this one of the easiest little jobs they'd ever had.

"Like to get a hot bath when we get there. Fresh shirt," Paul remarked, keeping his voice low, "maybe something soft to snuggle up to."

Marko let out a laugh, causing one of the horses to perk up and look toward him, "yeah, nothin' _soft_ is gonna wanna cuddle with you."

David shook his head, moving past Jasper and holding his hand out to the horse Marko had gotten the attention of. It was pitch black and lean, not a spot of white on it at all.

"Looks like it came from Hell," Jasper mused, seeming to read David's thoughts.

"If I didn't have Triumph I'd take him." The horse nuzzled against his hand before allowing him to run between his ears.

"We'd better get going. If we get a three hour start, that'll give us enough space to get some sleep before we have to worry anybody knows the horses are gone," Dwayne advised. He was right, of course. They'd be moving slower with the extra rides to lead.

David pulled a rope from his belt, looping it around the horse's head, "you are just the sweetest thing, aren't you?" He spoke softly, rubbing the horse's neck, "you got the others?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the black horse. "Soon as you're ready we'll head for Santa Carla."

Jasper frowned, looking around, "where is he?" He directed his attention at Marko, "where'd you leave him?"

Marko scowled, "who?"

"My dog, asshole. Where's Thorn?" Jasper demanded, very nearly raising his voice. "I told you to look after him."

David glared at him, rubbing the horse's shoulder, "easy, easy. You know Thorn is around, damn, Jas, he's smart."

Paul rolled his eyes, "he's back at the camp, relax. We left him some scraps to eat."

"Let's just get going," Jasper said, looking back at the stable, "no telling how long that guy's gonna be out." All of a sudden he couldn't shake this weird feeling of dread gnawing at his stomach. Like something very bad was going to happen.

They worked in silence, rounding up the horses before mounting and leaving without a trace. The owner would be absolutely livid in the morning when he found out the four horses were long gone and his stable hand was drunk. By then they would be long gone and no lawman would be able to cross county lines for a couple of horse thieves.

Their camp wasn't far. Almost all of their supplies had been packed and rolled up, ready to move. The only thing left was a small horse blanket and a chewed pig knuckle courtesy of-

"Where is he?" Jasper exclaimed, looking around anxiously. He couldn't see him, not out in this darkness.

There was a flash of white before a large white german shepherd barreled into him, knocking him to the ground and licking his face happily. He felt the wind being knocked out of him, the grass at his back feeling far more like feather down and crisp sheets than it should.

"Nanook!" Michael shouted, shaken from his mid-afternoon nap as he tried to shove Sam's dog away, "get off." He blinked several times, the clouds of his dream fading second by second. The details were a little fuzzy but he knew it had been a cowboy dream. When was the last time he had seen a western?

"You should go bother Sam," Michael suggested, tussling the husky's fur as he dragged his legs over the side of the bed. What was supposed to be a ten minute snooze had somehow been a little longer than he'd planned. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward over his knees and taking a deep breath. This whole house smelled like old man and mothballs. Apparently that was the perfect recipe to knock him out.

Nanook gave one last lick to his face before trotting off, tail held high, to find Sam.

At that moment, Michael almost wanted to go back to sleep. Catch the fading dream and finish it. He reluctantly stood up and grabbed a pair of sneakers and discarded socks from his bedroom floor, nudging an unpacked box out of his way. Had to get ready to go out with mom and Sam tonight. Save a little gas and see if he could find a weekend job. Something to put a little cash in his pocket.

"Michael!" Lucy's voice rank down the hallway, "honey, are you awake yet?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," he called back, hopping as he shoved one sock onto his foot and then the other, before shoving his sneakers on and stifling a yawn.

"Come get some breakfast before it gets cold, I made pancakes."

It was more like lunch, almost dinner time but pancakes sounded surprisingly good. Breakfast for dinner was a rare treat. He figured she still felt bad about them having to move but Michael didn't blame her, not for this. He blamed his old man, the bastard, it was good they had left.

Michael took the stairs two at a time, hurtling past Sam and stopping only long enough to mess his little brother's hair up before rushing to the kitchen.

"Awesome," he exclaimed, taking a seat at the table and just barely restraining himself from digging in after a quick warning look from his mother.

"What are your plans tonight, honey?" Lucy asked, smiling at him as she put syrup on her pancakes.

"Figured I could go with you to the Boardwalk tonight," he said quietly, glancing up as Sam walked into the kitchen smoothing his hair back and giving Michael a dirty look. Better not mention he'd be looking for a job. Then he'd have to get into the topic of school, and Michael wasn't quite ready to drop the 'I'm not going back' bombshell yet.

She smiled, "that would be nice, did you want a ride or were you planning on taking your bike?"

He snatched up a fork just as Sam sat down across from him, "might leave it here. Not sure. Don't have much gas money."

"I could give you a little if you want to take it, I know how much you enjoy it." She said, starting to eat.

Michael took his knife and began to slice into his pancake. If he took his bike, Sam wouldn't cling to him all night. Sam hated the bike. Still, money was tight.

"Are you sure? I won't take it if you can't spare the cash right now, mom."

She nodded, "it's fine, I promise. We can have a nice evening and you can come home when you're ready. You can enjoy your summer before school starts."

"I'll pay you back," he promised, "there's probably a couple of odd jobs kicking around." Never mind that the guy he asked when they first pulled into town that morning said otherwise.

"I wanna find a comic shop." Sam said, syrup dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"There's one or two of them cartoon stores downtown," grandpa called out, shuffling into the kitchen as he clapped his hands together and rubbed them enthusiastically, "breakfast for lunch, eh?"

Lucy smiled at him, "there's plenty if you want some, dad."

"I could go for a couple of eggs and some hot coffee. Flapjack or two." He flipped up the lenses of his sunglasses and winked at Lucy, taking a seat at the kitchen table between Michael and Sam. "Elbows off the table, Sammy boy."

Sam shoveled another forkful of pancake into his mouth and glared at him slightly before removing his elbows, "ish naht comfy." He mumbled out around his food.

"Already told you boys we had rules around here," the old man warned, popping his elbows on the table as Lucy set his plate down in front of him.

Lucy thacker him lightly on the shoulder, "dad, no double standards, you keep your elbows off the table too and Sam, stop talking with your mouth full."

Michael quietly watched them, eating his own forkful of pancakes generously slathered with butter and syrup. Things weren't going to be too bad here, he thought. He'd miss a lot about Arizona, but there was something to be said for the beach and the boardwalk in Santa Carla. Now if only grandpa didn't have all the creepy shit all over the walls and tucked into random corners watching them 24/7.

Gramps grudgingly removed his elbows from the table, "you be careful if you're out on the boardwalk at night, ya hear me boys?"

"Sure," Michael agreed. No point in being an ass to his grandpa, never mind the fact that he was pretty sure he could handle himself. Hopefully Sam stuck by mom's side more so he didn't have to worry too much.

* * *

She nursed at her growing hunger each night, fighting it and at the same time letting it make her stronger. Once or twice, she'd seen a child lost in the crowd she could easily lead away if she became the monster they wanted her to be. Actually, she'd even thought maybe just bringing one home with her might help as a distraction. She'd immediately decided against that, knowing there were only two options for a kid like that. If David wanted to play a sick joke, he'd feed the child from their wine bottle to teach Star a lesson. If he was mad, well, it would just be one more body. There were _so many._

She prided the way she locked the hunger and fear behind a veil of curls, dancing through the concert crowds and trailing fingers lightly over some particularly healthy-looking people. It would be so easy to draw blood, to end all of this, but she didn't. No, Star reached a peak in the crowd where she could see, and smell, and _taste_ the music. She danced, and then her eyes found him staring back at her. Star smiled, then she slipped away.

She could feel him following, his eyes locked on her as she moved smoothly for the crowd, luring him, letting him follow. He looked like a nice young man, the kind she would have loved to bring home to her parents, not that it mattered now, now the only one she was bringing him to was David. That thought gave her pause, he didn't deserve this but she was almost to where the boys were waiting. There was no turning back now.

They'd brought Thorn with them tonight, or rather, he'd eventually found them after they left the hotel. He was the first thing Star saw as she smiled back at the guy again. Hinting that she knew he was after her, and maybe didn't mind. The large dog's eyes weren't on Star as she came into view, they were on the boy following her. She expected him to growl, to raise his hackles, but he looked happy. His tail and ears were up and alert and he was shifting from foot to foot in anticipation. Maybe he was hungry.

Star rushed towards David's bike and hopped up behind him, " _I brought you something,"_ she whispered guiltily in his mind.

David smirked at her before looking to see what she'd brought. His smirk immediately faded and his crystalline blue eyes widened slightly as his fingers curled into the white fur of Thorn's scruff.

"Jasper?" His voice came out so softly that if it weren't for her enhanced hearing she never would have heard it.

The brunette in question looked crestfallen when he saw Star climb behind David, and for an instant she wondered whether he'd approach them. His gaze lingered on David for an instant before he turned to leave. Who was Jasper?

"Star, go tell him to meet you tomorrow." David ordered softly but firmly.

She kept her disbelief from showing, hoping this wasn't the first kill David wanted her to make, but knowing it couldn't be anything else. Star climbed off the back of David's bike and went after the human, the spangles in her skirt clinking softly in her wake. Just as she approached, he turned around with a look of surprise on his face.

"Meet me here tomorrow night," she advised, flirtatiously smiling.

He peered over her shoulder, "your boyfriend won't mind?"

Star winked at him and shook her head, leaving everything a mystery as she walked away. He looked like he wanted to follow, but only smiled after her. "Name's Michael!" He shouted.

"Star!" She called back, climbing back onto David's bike with him. She liked that name. Michael.

"Michael." David tried out the name as he started his bike, kicking off and tearing off into the night.

* * *

The moment David saw the trailing little puppy that Star had brought with her he knew, he knew exactly who it was and Thorn did too. Jasper, back from the dead. He couldn't believe his luck, to find their brother after so long, alive after what Max had done. He had never really believed in reincarnation but this, well, this proved it.

" _Did that really happen?"_ Marko asked, his thoughts piercing through the biting wind as they raced towards the hotel.

 _"Thorn says yes, that was Jasper, I know it."_ David replied, eyes locked on the darkness before them. They'd left Thorn behind to scrounge up a meal for himself. Hellhounds were always hungry, and Thorn was no exception.

" _Jasper's dead,"_ Paul pointed out.

 _"Reincarnation dumbass."_ Marko retorted..

Paul drifted dangerously close to Marko in the trail, just enough to piss him off before pulling aside. Neither of them wanted to total their bikes tonight, " _I don't believe it,"_ Paul said simply, " _it's been almost a hundred years, do you even really remember what he looks like?"_

David glared at him, _"you think I don't fucking remember what my partner looks like? You think Thorn doesn't remember the scent of his master? The three of you saw him too, what do you think?"_

Dwayne, who had been characteristically silent, sliced through their conversation, " _it's too soon. They could just look alike. Wait until tomorrow before you work yourself up, David."_

 _"What about Thorn?"_ He asked in reply, already a little worked up.

" _It's been a long time,"_ Dwayne replied, calm, despite the wind tearing at their clothes and the increasingly dangerous speeds they pushed themselves to, " _maybe he fed off of your own excitement. No telling."_

 _"Fine, tomorrow we'll know for sure."_ He wasn't sure how to test it though, _"how do you test for reincarnation?"_

" _Acid,"_ Paul snarked, " _lots of it."_

Marko gave the mental equivalent of a snort, " _if he's Jasper, we'll know. Just gotta see what he's like. Test him."_

_"Then we test him, starting tomorrow with a ride."_

" _Think that's enough?"_ Marko asked, " _what if he's not Jasper? We just eat him?"_

 _"Yeah, I guess so."_ David knew he was though, knew it in his cold, dead heart, Michael was Jasper. He'd spent far too long searching through the years, and the crowds. It had to be him.

* * *

There had yet to be a time when one night did not bleed effortlessly into the other, through the passing weeks and years. He supposed there should be something very depressing about an endless evening, but Dwayne sort of liked it. Even better when they were taking to the air, or riding their bikes until the metal wanted to scream in protest. This race was no different, and David's intense desire to push the mortal to his limits lent an extra sting of thrill to it all.

He wanted to hold his arms aloft, feel the cool air and fog slicing into his fingers. If it didn't mean losing control of his ride and jack knifing, Dwayne might have seriously considered it. They laughed. _Howled._ Even up to the moment on the bluffs, when Michael very nearly went sailing, his legs kissing gravel, Dwayne wanted to keep going. Over the edge. Hurtling into the ocean. Then, when David seemed to taunt the human, push him further, a fist went flying, and it all became far less about fun. More real. What were they going to do?

David laughed, holding his hand up to stop the others, "how far are you willing to go, Michael?"

Dwayne looked to the others, realizing something very simple that neither Marko or Paul had quite yet grasped. David was right. Only Jasper could throw a right hook like that.

David moved closer, standing toe to toe with him, "let's go."

Not even Max found himself welcome at the hotel, and as of late Star's invitation seemed on the verge of being rescinded, but here David offered a glimpse of their world to the human. He had been waiting for a very long time, they just hadn't realized it. Somehow, Jasper had come back to them.

"Come on," Dwayne nudged Star's shoulder, leading her to his own bike, "you'll ride back with me. David wants some space."

Star looked between them, "what's going on?" She asked softly, climbing on behind him.

He let a soft smirk curl his lips, waiting for her to wrap her arms around his torso, "I'll let you know when I've figured it out."

She leaned her cheek against his back, "what are we going to do now?"

Star was all too human, even as a halfie straddling the line. Her questions sometimes irritated David, and even Dwayne struggled to really answer many of them. 'Living in the moment' was not a phrase in her vocabulary, and maybe that was why it was so difficult to get her to make a damn kill. He humored her tonight and decided to try and answer with something more than a shrug, "we're giving Michael the grand tour." He kicked into gear, knowing Michael was too far ahead now with David as they all began their rides towards the hotel, "he'll be safe tonight. Just let things happen."

He could hear her swallow against his back, "is David going to…?" He knew what she was asking, would they give him the bottle.

Dwayne thought about that for a moment. It wouldn't be difficult. Ply the kid with enough weed and booze, he'd probably do anything. If he really was Jasper, he'd probably drink the whole thing. Dwayne hadn't forgotten how easily their old brother could go wild if he was allowed the chance. "No," Dwayne decided, "I don't think he will."

"Do you want him to be my first? Is that what this is? What am I supposed to do?" Her voice was quiet, borderline panic.

"Just let things happen," he advised, "trust me. David's not going to make you eat him."

She nodded mutely, slowly relaxing against his back. Dwayne had the sneaky suspicion that this was going to become a regular arrangement. At least he wasn't on babysitting duty for a kid. Max was always threatening to bring one into their little family. David had managed to prevent it so far but Dwayne wasn't sure for how much longer. Maybe with Jasper back they would take the fight to Max. It was about time they took out dear old _dad_.

* * *

_June 15th, 1880. Santa Carla._

There were few things Max enjoyed so much as knowing that every plan he laid out, every choice he made, was always the right one. His hotel ran like a well-oiled machine, and this burgeoning town that had been almost nothing when he arrived was truly beginning to thrive.

This evening, with a glass of brandy on his desk, and several invoice requests to peruse, Max awaited his supper in his office, each bauble and painting that decorated the walls lending to his sense of pride. This hotel was his paradise, this town his kingdom, and the man who came stumbling in, bleeding profusely from a shot to the gut, was his daytime eyes and ears. This was not what dinner was supposed to be.

"Sir…" he stumbled forward, dripping blood on his pristine carpet.

"Andrew?" Max asked in disbelief, standing up from his chair, "what happened?"

He slumped to the floor, "sir, they, they shot me, five of them. I'm so sorry."

Max was in shock, pressing for details, "five?" He crossed around the side of his desk, swiftly approaching his loyal servant, "were they trying to rob you?"

He shook his head, "I tried to bring you dinner and they followed me."

The clicking sound of a hammer being pulled back drew his attention to the door. "We weren't planning on robbing you but since we're here, well, we might as well." A young blonde man with piercing blue eyes stood in the doorway pointing a pistol at him. This did complicate things.

"Ah, well, then I suppose we should talk first," Max replied, feigning a frantic, nervous act. "Would you like to sit down?" He gestured towards a lounging sofa pressed up against the wall with one of his prized tapestries as a backdrop.

The young man shook his head, the gun unwavering, "I don't think so. Marko, go see what you can get out of his desk."

Another young man appeared at the threatening blonde's shoulder, a little shorter. Some might say cherubic with his neatly trimmed curls and oversized coat. Max picked up the scent of blood on him, noting a small cut at the bit of his throat that poked out from his cotton shirt. He made his way quickly over to Max's desk. It was difficult not to flinch when he spilled that wonderful brandy all over the beautiful mahogany.

"I'd be a poor man of business if I kept my valuables there, young man," Max remarked. His eyes flitted over Andrew, who had crumpled entirely to the carpet now, his breathing becoming more strained. Of course he'd have to replace the damn things, servant and rug.

"Didn't figure you would but Marko knows his way around secret compartments. Guys like you always have them." He stepped forward, letting the others in. Max was massively outnumbered and these young men seemed to know what they were doing. They weren't the most polite group, but he highly doubted any of them was older than nineteen at best. Young minds. In fact, not just young minds, but vicious ones. There was an interesting thought.

"To be frank, I much prefer to write checks if I can. The cash valuables I have will be in our safe. Now," Max swept a hand around the room, "I do have quite a few valuables in plain sight, if that is what you're truly after."

"Paul, Dwayne, take what you can, we leave in one minute. Jasper, watch the hall." This one was obviously the leader of this ragtag band of thieves.

"Now now," Max held up his hands, trying to calm them, "I know you don't want to do this, boys. I'm a respectable man, after all," he smiled, allowing the distasteful show of power to finally happen. His fangs descended, his brow cracking ominously as his face shifted to make room, "I'd like to ask all of you one more time to reconsider, take a seat."

The young man didn't blink, didn't scream in fear, he just pulled the trigger. There was a loud shot, a bit of smoke, and a tragic destruction of his perfectly good vest and shirt, but Max was otherwise only minimally damaged. He placed a hand over the gaping wound in his chest, suddenly very concerned, "I suppose silk means nothing to you," he said, finally feeling some degree of anger. " _Sit_ ," he commanded, using the full force of his influence and projecting it at the foolish leader of wayward teens.

He fought, oh, how he fought, Max could feel every second of it as he was forced to sit on the couch. His gun grasped firmly in hand like a lifeline.

"David," Marko called out to the young man. Dwayne and Paul stood frozen in place, each of them thrumming with a tense energy. Max didn't doubt they were weighing whether or not to try to shoot him as well. The last member of their group stood at the door, hand hovering over his holster. Charming.

Max calmly removed his glasses, pulling a handkerchief from his vest pocket and calmly polishing the lenses as he focused most of his attention on David, "I'm a fair man. Honest. I won't lie to you, David. You boys are making quite the scene in my hotel. I don't appreciate that."

David's lip pulled back in a snarl, "wouldn't have been a scene if your man there hadn't tried to abduct Marko. Why don't we call it even and we'll take our leave?"

"That is an enticing proposal," Max admitted, directing his attention to Jasper at the door, "come inside, close the door behind you. _If you please._ " He used just as much force with this command as he had used with David. The struggle was just as fierce, and throughout it the young man's hand hovered over his pistol.

Max looked back at David, "what's the old saying? Something about putting something back in a bottle. It doesn't matter. What's done is done. Tell me about yourself, David. I might be lenient."

David glared at him, struggling to his feet, "we're leaving. I don't have to tell you jack shit, old man."

"Really now?" Max smiled, looking over at Marko, the small one, "if you don't mind, pull out your gun and put the barrel in your mouth."

Paul was the first to react, grabbing Marko's hand, struggling with him as they tumbled to the ground.

"What the fuck do you want?" David hissed angrily.

Max replaced his glasses, allowing his face to shift back into something of a more human appearance, "stay at my hotel for a few days. Enjoy the finest suites I have to offer. Dine on what you like, and as soon as you're ready, come back to my office. I have an offer I'd like to make you. All of you." Max looked back at Marko, "you may release your gun."

"And if we just up and leave?" He asked as all of the boys glared at Max.

Max adjusted the lapels of his coat, "I own this town, boys. Everything and everyone in it. You won't get far." His smile grew wider, "I don't make the same offer twice. So, are we agreed?"

"And if we refuse your deal, whatever it is, the next time we meet?"

"Then I will set you free," Max replied simply, "I am a man of my word."

"You're not a man, you're a monster." David said firmly.

"There is a very fine line. So do you want to eat your bullets tonight, or will you stay and enjoy yourselves?"

"We'll stay, for now." It was obvious that David cared for his crew and Max was more than happy to use that.

"Wonderful. I'll have Andrew cleaned up and take care of you boys. I'm glad we're in agreement. It's so nice when no one fights."


	2. The First Drink

He didn't mind helping grandpa with the weeds and brush. The weather here was nothing compared to Phoenix on a bad day. It would be easier if Sam wasn't complaining every ten minutes about some stupid thorn in a branch he was loading into a bag, even though grandpa had told him to put gloves on a hundred times. Michael actually liked having something to keep him busy that afternoon, and not focus on the girl he'd followed that he was going to meet tonight, or the guy who gave him a weird vibe.

"Grandpa, where do you want this?" Michael hefted up his wheelbarrow loaded down with dead plant debris and stray branches he'd gathered from the back garden.

"There's a pile around the side of the house, just add to it 'till I get the chipper up and runnin'." He said from his place in an old lawn chair, "dammit, Sam, I told you to put those gloves on, now you're bleedin'." He sighed heavily, "you gotta learn to listen, we tell ya stuff for your own good."

"Why are we working when it's supposed to be summer _break?_ " Sam protested.

Michael rolled his eyes, carrying the brush to the back. When he dumped the cargo of brush off and headed around the house again, he was sure to grab the gloves Sam left on the porch and toss them at him.

"Hey, are there a lot of bikers in Santa Carla, grandpa?" Michael called out.

He was silent for a moment, just staring at Michael before finally answering, "just one group." He said softly, "why?"

"Saw some guys on the boardwalk last night, was just curious," he replied, "there's a girl with them I'm meeting up with tonight."

"You should just stay home, forget the girl, forget the bikers, just forget about them."

Michael frowned, "why?" His reaction seemed a little extreme. They didn't seem all that bad.

"Trust me, no good will come of it." He said firmly.

"Did they do something?" Michael pressed for details. Maybe it was just grandpa being an old bastard with the 'stay off my lawn' mentality.

"They terrorize the boardwalk, isn't that enough?"

"Riding bikes?" Michael clarified, glancing over at the garage where his own was safely nestled.

"They do plenty, best leave them be and not get involved."

The words rang in his ears like the sort of advice a person knows may be right, but insists on testing anyway. He wanted to see Star again. Eerily, he wanted to see those guys again too. There was something familiar about them. Maybe they reminded him of friends he'd forgotten in Phoenix.

Rather than argue, Michael gave a noncommittal shrug, "okay. Do you want me to do anything else in the yard, grandpa?"

"Nah, gonna have Sam finish up. You did most of the work anyway."

"He tries," Michael said, unable to really defend how lazy Sam could be, "mom babies him a bit." That was an understatement. Maybe she felt bad about the move and the issues with dad, but for whatever reason their mom was unable to accept that Sam wasn't ten anymore. He could stand to grow up a little.

"I'll get him whipped into shape, don't you worry."

"You could have him help you stuff Bugs Bunny," Michael joked, trying to lighten the suddenly very serious mood.

Grandpa looked thoughtful, "I just might do that."

* * *

It was when the sun turned orange that Star felt the most empty and alone. Though her 'brothers' slept blissfully in the dark, the remaining part of her that was still human reminded Star that the day was for the living. She couldn't hide from that deep, aching loneliness when her body refused to cooperate and let her rest. So she sat in her corner with a shroud of an old shawl wrapped about her, staring at a beam of light creeping into the lobby.

Yet she wasn't completely alone. Her dull hunger still screamed softly, worming into her bones like an icy chill. Tonight they were going to meet with Michael and he was going to come back with them. Dwayne promised she wouldn't have to eat him, but did that just mean she was going to watch them instead?

Star dropped the shawl from her shoulders, slowly climbing to her feet and approaching the beam of light. Just looking at it made her skin itch. David had called the boy Jasper. There was something here they weren't telling her, and she wanted to find out why.

An instant of wild thought struck her. She eyed the beam of light, dipping her toe into it, watching the strip that touched her skin turn a faint hue of pink. She could just ask David. Or Dwayne. Or any of the others. Maybe they'd tell her. It wouldn't be easy. The daylight hours weakened her, made what little power she had as a halfling nearly non-existent, but she had to know.

" _David,"_ Star focused all of her strength into calling out to him through their mental path. " _Who is Jasper?"_

He was silent for a long time, long enough that she wondered if he even heard her. " _Why?"_

" _You said that name last night,"_ she pointed out.

" _He was my partner, a long time ago."_

She began to feel a little dizzy, so she slowly crouched down to the ground, crossing her arms and letting the light fall on her face. She probably wouldn't be able to enjoy this sort of thing much longer. " _Tell me about him."_ She just wanted someone to talk to. Star seemed to constantly balance on some ledge with David, trapped between fear and curiosity. Today, it was the latter.

" _Best partner I could have wanted. He was tough, stubborn, smart, but could be an asshole sometimes too."_

Star pondered on that for a moment, nestling her chin on her arms, " _when you say partner…"_

" _Did we fuck? Did we sleep together? Yes."_

She shouldn't really be surprised he was so blunt about it. He was David. " _I thought you liked girls."_ He certainly fed on enough of them.

" _I'm equal opportunity, just like the others. If it feels good, why not?"_

Again, Star should have expected an answer like that from David. She stifled a yawn, already becoming exhausted with the effort it took to have this conversation, " _what happened to him?"_ She asked, bleary-eyed.

" _Max happened, four boys is enough, five is too many."_ It sounded like he was parroting back something he had heard many times.

" _Max?"_ She repeated, unfamiliar with the name, but now too exhausted to wait for his reply as she nodded off in the dying sunlight.

He sighed heavily, _"Max is the asshole who sired us, whose blood you drank. It isn't my blood in that bottle. He owned this hotel, back in the day, we were outlaws and had a bit of an altercation with him."_

Star didn't dream that day, but if she had, she might have seen the ghosts of memories haunting David or any of the others of a time when the hotel was much younger.

* * *

David didn't like it. Sure, the rooms were nice, the food was great, but both he and Jasper agreed that nothing good would come of this. The others had yet to make a decision, but their revolving bedroom doors spoke wonders. The sheer volume of flying skirts in this hotel was alarming for such a classy place.

They were having lunch together in the dining hall when a letter arrived for David, carried by a white-gloved attendant with a greasy smile.

"For the gentleman in black," the attendant explained, bowing his head to David and proffering the letter.

He scowled, taking the letter, "what's this?"

"I do not know, sir," the attendant replied, "only that our manager requests your presence in his office this evening." His eyes flicked over the rest of the group quickly, he might have missed it if he wasn't paying attention at just the right moment, "alone. He will speak to your friends shortly."

David narrowed his eyes down at the note. He didn't like this, not one bit. "Jasper, I need you to wait outside for me. I doubt I can get out of this so I need you to watch my back in case something happens."

Jasper lowered his coffee, eyeing the note in David's hand. "We should try to skip town," he said in a hushed voice after the attendant disappeared.

"I'm not sure how successful we'll be but we can try."

"Thorn can keep his eye out for us," Jasper suggested, giving his dog a little too much credit. Yes, the mutt was smart, but expecting him to be aware of who was and who wasn't a minion of the demon running their hotel was a little much. Not to mention the logistics of explaining it to him.

Marko waved a delicate butter cookie in Jasper's direction, "he's a _dog,_ Jasper. Whatever that Max guy is, he's got no chance fighting him off."

Jasper stiffened a little, immediately taking on his typical defensive scowl, "I said keep an eye out, moron, just to make sure nobody's following us."

Dwayne looked up, taking in the odd curious glance in their direction, and the more prolonged stares from the finer dressed groups in the lobby, "let's talk about this later," he advised quietly, "when we're alone." He gave David a meaningful look, "you need to be careful."

David nodded, "yeah, I'll try to make this as quick as possible and be as much of an asshole as I can." He said with a small smirk.

Paul drummed his fingers on the table, quickly snatching a thick piece of bacon from Jasper's plate while he wasn't looking, "you know, lighting the bed sheets on fire is still an option here."

David let out a snort as he got to his feet, "we need someone else to do that, draw his attention away from us."

It looked like Paul was already hatching a plan to do just that, based on his suddenly wicked smile. Chances were he'd be nursing a few burns with several thumbs of whiskey later if he wasn't careful.

"We might have to think about that for a while," Dwayne told Paul, "so don't do anything stupid."

He looked offended, "me? Never."

It wasn't bad, having their clothes cleaned, hot meals, a roof over their heads without having to worry about where their next bit of good fortune would come from, but knowing they were at the mercy of, what David could only assume was, some sort of hell-spawn demon sort of soured the whole experience. Not to mention, gilded or not, the hotel was still a god damned cage. If Marko hadn't gotten himself cornered by Max's henchman, this could've been avoided altogether.

They spent the rest of the day drifting from one place to another in the hotel. Jasper checked on his dog a few times, finally deciding to bring Thorn into his room despite Paul's smartass comments. It was like they were all waiting for something to happen, and they were getting restless by the time David was supposed to meet Max in his office.

"I think we just need to go," Jasper repeated for the hundredth time, following David down the hall, while the others waited at the end with their hands perched on their belts at the ready in case a fight happened.

"How? If you have an idea I'm open to it. I just don't see how we can at the moment." He said with a heavy sigh as they stood outside the door.

"Maybe we do what Paul suggested, light a bed on fire or something. Distract this guy and his lackeys, ride out of Santa Carla before anyone knows we're gone." Jasper spoke in a hushed whisper, looking nervously over his shoulder, "I'm sick of feeling like there are eyes on us constantly, and how do we know this guy isn't going to kill us?"

"We don't but if we try to leave I think it's pretty much a guarantee that he's going to kill us." He replied, his hand on the door knob, "Jas, we don't have a choice. Maybe I can convince him to let us go."

Jasper reached for the hand on the door knob to prevent him from turning it before he spoke, "you shout if anything happens. I'm right out here." They'd been through enough to be unafraid of most things life threw at them, but this was something altogether different. It was a nightmare in a neatly tailored suit. Jasper wasn't even trying to hide the anxious fear in his eyes.

David nodded, locking eyes with him before pushing open the door, "I will."

"Ah, David," Max called out, sitting at his desk with a stack of papers to his right and a couple of glasses on a silver tray with a decanter of red wine to his left. "Close the door behind you, if you please."

David glared at him but complied, "what do you want, old man? You should just let us go, we're gonna wind up destroying your hotel if we stay much longer."

"No," Max shook his head, "I don't think you'll do that. Take a seat. Tell me a little about yourself, David. Where are your parents?" It was hard to say exactly _what_ he didn't like about Max, aside from the obvious fact that he was a demonic entity hell-bent on torturing them with false kindness. Maybe it was his smile. Self-assured and gloating. Fake.

David stood behind the chair, resting his arms along the back of it, "don't got any parents, don't need 'em."

"Come now, a boy needs a father, David," Max chided, standing up from his desk and proceeding to pour some of the wine into one of the glasses, "and a mother," he added softly. His nice guy act was almost convincing. Almost.

He scowled, "no, parents are nothin' but trouble, we do fine on our own and don't need you tryin' to pull any shit."

"I don't intend to," Max assured him, tipping the decanter over the second glass, "I don't have much at the moment, so if you decide to help yourself, I ask that you take your time with this. It is very strong." He picked up the first glass and offered it to David, "I can hardly remember my own father. Family is very important."

David's eyes narrowed, "not thirsty and what's all this talk about family anyway?"

Max placed the glass back on his desk, "very well," he said simply, sitting back down in his seat, "I like you boys. I see some potential in you. All of you. There's a certain edge, a killer's instinct. Frankly, I'd like to adopt you as my sons."

He was rendered silent for a moment, "And if we refuse?"

Max clasped his hands over his stomach, leaning back in his chair, "then I suppose I will have to let you go. I am very rich, however, and it would be a shame not to share in all my wealth with such fine young boys. All I'd really require was your loyalty. I can promise that you will never have to live in fear, or go hungry. The world will be yours. Is that such a bad offer?" He reached for one of the wine glasses, bringing it to his lips.

"I'd have to talk to the boys." The idea of money _was_ tempting but there was no way he could trust this man, this creature.

"Shame," Max replied, "but I understand. I will give you a little more time." He took a long sip of his wine, closing his eyes and savouring the taste, "wine is so much nicer than any other drink in the world. Refined." He opened his eyes, "and this is truly the best in the world. Unforgettable."

"I'm more of a whiskey man myself." It did look good but he didn't want to give in, not to him.

"Yes," Max repeated, "whiskey. I thought as much." His disdain dripped from his voice, a sudden reminder that this monster was in fact just as pompous as any other asshole with too much money and nothing else to cover for it.

"Whelp, if there's nothing else, I'll be going. I think we're gonna decline your oh so generous offer. We got our own lives to live." If he would really let them go, that is.

"That's fine," Max replied, setting his glass down. " _David,"_ he called out, just as David turned to leave. "Have just a sip of wine. A taste. If you don't want any more, I promise all of you can leave tonight. No consequences. I'll even forget about the unfortunate death of my assistant. I just want you to admit that my wine is-irresistible."

David snatched up the bottle, ignoring the cup, and putting it to his lips with a glare, "fine." He bit out before downing the bottle.

Max's eyebrows shot up, "you'll want to be careful with that, my boy. It's potent."

He didn't stop, if anything Max's words made him drink more out of spite. He didn't stop, not until the bottle was empty. "Fuck you." He slurred slightly, he never had an issue with alcohol before, what the hell was in that stuff?

Max smiled back at him, "I hope you weren't expecting more. Sleep well, David. Tomorrow we can talk a little more, when you've had time to think about my proposal."

David's vision dimmed as he stumbled, falling to the ground and into darkness at Max's feet.

* * *

Michael couldn't believe it. He'd just barely avoided driving off a cliff thanks to this asshole, and the guy was smiling back at him as if the jaw-cracking punch Michael had just thrown was a light slap. Then somehow, he'd actively convinced Michael to get back on his bike and _follow_ them to god only knows where. And after all of that, his seething anger just vanished in an instant the moment they parked their rides.

He looked up towards the warning signs and rickety wooden steps in the dark, "where are we?"

"This place was once the hottest hotel in Santa Carla before the earthquake swallowed it up." David explained as he started walking down the stairs.

He got chills just looking at the place. It was all too familiar, like déjà vous on overdrive. For an instant Michael hesitated on the steps.

"You coming?" David asked from the bottom of the stairs, "it's safe."

The others drifted behind him. It wasn't like he could just turn back now because he got a 'bad feeling'. Michael nodded, "Yeah, I'm coming." He descended the steps, listening to David as he continued to tell his story.

They stepped into a large cavern, what was once a grand entryway, "welcome to our little slice of heaven."

Michael looked around, taking in every detail of this strange pocket in the cliff. A junkyard of old parties and something else. His eyes settled on a fountain in the center of everything, and he got the distinct feeling that it should be outside, maybe in some kind of huge garden.

"How did you guys find this place?" He asked, looking over at Star for just a moment. She didn't seem to have much to say.

"Been here forever, wasn't hard to find if you know where to look."

The others drifted through the room, settling in seats on a couch, a beat-up chair. Marko lingered by the entrance, gathering a nesting pigeon into his hands, while Star hovered in the corner, watching Michael quietly. He smiled faintly at her, sitting down at the edge of the fountain and looking back at David.

David grinned, "welcome, Michael." He said, settling into an old wheelchair, "you hungry?"

Michael shrugged, "I could eat."

Paul laughed, covering his mouth when Dwayne gave him a nudge to the shoulder and a silent shake of the head. Some unspoken joke. Or maybe the guy was just on something.

"Just for that, Paul, food." He ordered.

Paul's shoulders slumped, "fuck," he mumbled under his breath. He jumped to his feet, "any requests?"

"Chinese!" Marko said with a grin, still petting the bird in his hands.

If Michael had been paying closer attention to Star, he might have noticed the sudden look of fear in her eyes, or the way she drew her shawl close about her shoulders, huddling to the ground as she watched them. But he wasn't watching her. He was watching David.

"Alright," Paul bobbed his head, "Chinese. Chinese food. Sure." He skipped towards the door, shoving Marko playfully along the way so he was forced to drop his bird. The pigeon took to the air, feathers thoroughly ruffled.

"The kind you eat with chopsticks!" Dwayne shouted after him, eliciting chuckles from Marko and David. Another joke Michael didn't quite get.

"So, Michael, tell us about yourself." David said, relaxing in his seat.

He shrugged, eyes traveling around the room to take it in a little bit more, trying to capture some strange feeling of familiarity, figure out exactly what was just dancing at the edge of his thoughts, "not much to say. Family lived in Phoenix, then we moved down here." He paused, looking over at Star, "I play baseball, off and on." He redirected his attention to David, "then, sometimes, I guess I ride my bike. How about you?" He should be steering these questions towards Star, figure out ways to sit closer to her, but he wasn't.

"We ride, party, enjoy ourselves, we live free." David said with a smile, looking toward the entrance, "Thorn?"

The same dog Michael had seen the night before stood at the entrance to the old hotel, perched on the steps, panting. A red stain from some rabbit or squirrel or something was smeared around the fur on his lower jaw. Otherwise he looked like a perfectly normal, happy dog. His heavy panting quickly turned to breathy whines as if he were waiting for some sort of command or call.

"Come on, boy." David said, welcoming him in, "what're you doing here?"

Thorn immediately rushed forward, his claws digging into the floor and scratching at earth and old floorboards as he practically barreled towards the fountain. Michael jumped, almost stumbling back when the dog through its full force into a sharp dive onto his lap, stubbornly burrowing his head against Michael's chest.

"Uh-" Michael hesitantly put a hand on Thorn, giving him a few quick strokes on the head, "he's friendly."

Star and all of the boys, except for David, looked shocked, the blonde looked smug at the way Thorn was behaving. He was making happy sounds, his tail wagging a mile a minute.

"Well Michael, I think Thorn likes you." David said with a grin.

"I'm not great with animals," Michael admitted, continuing to pet the dog. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Thorn is very particular, if he likes you he's loyal forever."

"Can't get rid of him," Marko quipped, trailing over to the couch and weaseling into a seat against one of the arms, just barely making Dwayne give him room.

Michael looked down at Thorn, "I guess he's okay," he said. "My brother's dog is a pain, though."

Thorn growled softly at the mention of another dog, rubbing his head over as much of Michael as he could. "I think Thorn's jealous. He's not like other dogs after all, he's special. You'll never find another dog like him."

* * *

Dwayne sat silently by David's bedside. Their leader didn't look good ever since his meeting with Max and he hadn't regained consciousness either. Max had called them into his office to take him away, he had looked so smug and pleased, it made Dwayne sick.

"You want me to watch him for awhile?" Paul asked, for once not looking even remotely amused. His perpetual smile was oddly lacking today. Both he and Marko had been standing by the door together, silently observing David just as intently as Dwayne.

"Man, you don't think Jasper left us behind, do you?" Marko asked, cracking open the door.

"He wouldn't leave David or Thorn." Dwayne stated, sounding sure of himself.

The dog in question was sleeping soundly at the foot of David's bed, none the wiser of what was going on. Probably didn't even have a clue they were basically trapped here.

"Then where did he go?" Marko demanded, looking back at Dwayne, "this isn't like him."

"I don't know but with David out of commission we need to find him and figure out what the hell he's doing."

Paul picked up an ornate vase on the bureau by the door and casually tossed it to the ground, smirking when it shattered on hardwood. "Maybe he's trying to find a way out. You know how stubborn the bastard is."

"Marko, you're the best at sneaking around, see what you can find out. We have to find Jasper before something else happens." He pressed his fingers to David's neck, feeling for a pulse, "it's weak."

Marko nodded, "I can do that," he agreed, hesitating. "You don't think he drugged David, did you? Gave him something funny?"

"He did something, I just don't know what."

"Asshole," Paul cursed, "if David dies, I don't give a damn what that guy can do to me. Whatever he is, I'm gonna kill him. Paint his face with bullets." He meant it, too. The one thing Paul didn't joke about was killing. Yeah, maybe they'd had to take a life here or there, but they never really used their guns unless they absolutely had to. Max was quickly turning into one of those situations.

"I know, hopefully it won't come to that, I don't want to lose him either."

"It's all some sick game," Marko spat out, slowly opening the door to peek outside into the hallway, "I'll find Jasper today, you just watch." He looked back over his shoulder, "don't let him die on us, Dwayne."

"I won't." Dwayne said, locking eyes with him, "like I would let this asshole off that easily."

Marko nodded, slipping from the room quickly and quietly. Sneaking around really was his expertise.

Paul stepped over the broken mess he'd made on the ground, making his way to the bed to sit down beside Dwayne, "maybe we could just dump coffee down his throat, force him awake. Something like that."

"I'd let you try it but I'm going to stand back." Dwayne said, eyeing him skeptically.

"There's a leftover pot in my room, I'll just set it by the fire in here for a bit to warm it up and we can try," Paul suggested, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "Mom used to tell me this sort of shit was going to catch up with us. Stealing horses. Skipping towns. Always figured I'd just end up with a bullet in my gut or between the eyes, though. Feels like we're all gonna get picked off pretty soon. I don't like it."

David looked peaceful, despite the chaos around him. It wasn't like him. By now he should have woken up and given them a piece of his mind for talking so much. Or through a mild threat at Paul for even so much as mentioning the word coffee.

"Dammit David, wake the fuck up already asshole." Dwayne growled, anger in his voice.

A soft groan escaped David's lips, his forehead crinkling slightly at the disturbance. "Fuck you, Dwayne." David mumbled.

Paul smirked, "that's a good sign at least."

"Wanna get that coffee? Maybe that'll finish waking him up." Dwayne said, making sure David could hear him.

"Just let me rest, assholes, it fucking hurts." He grumbled.

Paul frowned, poking David's shoulder, "what hurts? Did he do something weird to you last night?"

"My gut, my body, my head, it hurts just to stay awake." He mumbled, drifting a little.

"Must have a massive hangover," Paul observed, standing up, "I'll get the coffee and wrangle up some breakfast. See if we can force it down his throat."

David groaned, "don't want food or coffee, makes my stomach cramp. I dunno what was in that wine but I don't wanna move. It's too bright."

"You can't spend the whole day in bed, David. I'm getting the coffee." With that, Paul was out the door, leaving the pair of them behind.

"How much did you drink?" Dwayne asked, trying to keep him awake.

David was silent and Dwayne was worried he had fallen asleep again. It was minutes before he spoke. "The whole fucking bottle."

"And Jasper?" He pressed for more details.

"He stayed outside. I dunno what happened after I passed out."

"Christ," Dwayne whispered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, "he wouldn't have just left you like this. With Max."

Before they could even discuss Jasper's sudden absence, the door swung open and Marko stepped inside dangling a tacky bottle covered in pasted jewels and tin gilding, "look what I found on the asshole's desk!" He had the idiotic look of a cat that got the whole cow.

The moment he popped the cork David seemed to perk up a little. "That's what I drank, fuck it, I want more."

"No," Marko said simply, bringing the bottle close to his lips, "you need your beauty sleep." He took a good, long swig.


	3. The First Sighting

"I don't care if you rat me out, Sam, I'm not taking you to the boardwalk," Michael told his brother, lowering his weights as he worked on one final rep. There wasn't a chance in hell Sam would be able to spot him, so he just kept his back turned to the younger Emerson while he faced the window. Sam was trying to threaten him about staying out all night, after he caught Michael slipping in through the back door that morning. As if Michael didn't have even _more_ dirt on _him_.

Sam whined, sounding almost exactly like his dog, "come on, Mike! You gotta take me!"

"Why?" He asked, finally relaxing and setting his weights down entirely. He reached for a towel on the foot of his bed and wiped at his face. It was like a sauna in there.

"Because you're my big brother and you're supposed to take me places."

"I don't remember that rule," Michael retorted, tossing his towel into the laundry basket, "can you get a ride home if I drop you off?"

He scowled slightly, "yeah, mom is working later, why wouldn't you be able to take me?"

Michael sat down on the end of his bed, "because I don't want to hang around all day?"

"What're you gonna do? Did you find a girl already?"

It seemed like answering that question would only leave him open for more nosiness from his little brother. Michael still hadn't forgotten how much Sam liked to embarrass himself around his old girlfriends in Phoenix. "I've just got my own plans," Michael lied. He didn't have any plans today. Besides maybe finding a job, not that he'd had too much luck beyond picking up garbage in the morning on the beach.

Sam huffed, "I'll get mom to give me a ride home."

"Fine," Michael agreed, squinting up at his little brother, "I'll give you a ride. After I take a shower and eat lunch. Deal, dork?" They teased each other, but the pair got along just fine. Michael could easily see why Sam hated being cooped up here with grandpa, no TV, no friends to talk to. At least Michael had a bike.

Sam perked up immediately, "deal!"

Grandpa was already gone by the time they were ready to head to the boardwalk. It was just as well, or he'd have a fresh list of chores to do around the house. Michael wasn't thrilled about helping with the old gate later.

"You know mom's work phone?" Michael asked, letting Sam climb off of his bike once he pulled up to a safe distance from the comic shop.

"I'm just gonna show up and get her to give me one."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that," Michael remarked, leaving Sam behind. He meant to swing by a couple of stores today for part time gigs, but instead found himself driving back to the old hotel near the bluff. Maybe the guys and Star would be there. It was something to do, he thought.

It wasn't nearly as scary climbing the rickety wooden steps this time, now that he'd already crossed them twice. When he got into the entrance of the lobby, however, he was disappointed to find that no one was there. Michael fished his lighter from his pocket and sauntered over to a half-crushed bottle of kerosene near one of the oil barrels to start a quick fire and give himself some light to see by.

"Anybody here?" He called out.

His voice echoed off the walls, filling the nearly oppressive silence. Shadows from the fire and the waning sunlight danced along the cavern walls. To say it was creepy would be a gross understatement. It was bizarre how unsettling the place had become. Michael honestly would have thought it would be worse at night, not in the middle of the afternoon.

With nothing better to do, and curiosity taking over, Michael fished out his pocket flashlight and decided to do a little exploring. Maybe they were around here somewhere. He didn't notice the resting shape of Star tucked behind the canopy of her moth-eaten bed in the corner of the lobby.

There was a corridor tucked away with a whisper-thin cloth draped over it. Michael ducked his head down and slipped through, holding his flashlight just above his head. He was getting that weird feeling again. The one that made him think he'd been here before. He could almost picture the patches of rotten wood beneath his feet as freshly-polished squares of bright golden brown. Oddly enough, he knew there was a door up ahead and to the right before he could even see it through the dark. His heart caught in his chest. This place was getting to him.

He stopped in front of the door, staring at it as a feeling of dread wound up from the pit of his stomach.

" _No hard feelings. I'm sure you understand why I have to do this. I really wish you hadn't pressed me so much, Jasper, but I can't have you boys blowing holes through my best clothes every night, can I?"_ A voice intoned darkly, echoing in his ears.

Michael shook his head, trying to clear the thought from his mind. It was like a vivid memory, something more than imagination. He could picture a man standing above him, a shoe pressed to his throat. What was going on?

_"But really, four boys is enough and since you've so kindly volunteered to be the odd man out, well, I suppose I'll have to keep you contained for the time being."_

"Jesus Christ," Michael rasped, dropping his flashlight and pressing the palms of his hands to his temples. Waves of nausea washed over him, and he had to lean against the wall until he could calm down. He could picture someone, the shape of another person lying on the ground beside him. Didn't know if he was dead. Didn't know who it was. Only that whoever was lying on the ground was important. He was everything.

"Let me go," Michael whispered, unsure whether he was just thinking it-remembering it, maybe, or actually saying the words aloud.

 _"Let you go? No, I think not, you and David shot me after all. He has already drank, he is already_ mine _."_

Michael drew a hand to his throat, as if he could _feel_ the shoe pushing him down, giving him just enough breath and room to speak, "I'll kill you," he promised in a voice far calmer than he felt.

_"I'd like to see you try."_

Michael closed his eyes tight, willing whatever madness this was to just go away. "Fuck you," he cursed, taking in deep breaths of stale, musty air. All at once, the headache and nausea were gone, and he was alone in the dark again. The only light to see by was shining from the pocket flashlight he'd dropped beside him. What the hell just happened?

"Michael? What are you doing here?" Star's voice made his head snap up to look at her.

"Star?" He said her name, slowly feeling reality dawn on him, "I was—looking around," he said, not sure whether it was a lie or not. He probably looked nuts right now.

She knelt down next to him, "what are you doing on the floor?"

He flinched, not wanting to really relive what just happened. Whatever it was. "I had a headache," he said simply. He did, after all, didn't he? "Just wanted to swing by and see if you guys were hanging around…"

She gave him a weak smile, "they're sleeping but should be up soon if you want to wait."

Michael reached for his flashlight, "you sleep here?" He asked in disbelief. It was a cool place to hang out, yeah, but spending the whole night? They must have had a hell of a lot more to drink after he left.

"There are places that are still intact, if you know where to find them."

The way she said it, he could hardly believe this was the same girl who'd lured him through the crowd only a few days ago. She seemed bone-tired. Weary. "Star?"

"Hmm?" She asked, looking into his eyes.

"Do you _want_ to be here? With these guys?" Even last night she'd sort of kept her distance, stayed quiet. It was weird.

She looked taken aback by his question, "sometimes, no, but I chose to be here." She said softly.

He wasn't even going to pretend to understand what she meant, "do you wanna sit down? Talk a little?" It wasn't really the best place to hang out and chat, with so little light to see by, but he was still waiting for the last twinge of his headache to fade anyway.

She gave him a small smile, "sure," she settled down beside him, "what do you want to talk about?""

"I know your name. That's about it," Michael pointed out, "and I like you. So tell me something, Star. Anything."

She swallowed hard, glancing back the way she had come, "there's not much to tell, I, umm, I'm not from around here originally."

"That's a start," he replied, smiling faintly, "you want to go for a ride?"

She shook her head, "no, umm, don't you still have a headache?" She asked, smiling slightly in return.

He was a little disappointed but not altogether surprised. She was probably still shaken up from the bike race. "It's almost gone," Michael assured her, "be honest with me, though, if you're dating David then I'm fine with that."

She shook her head, "no, I'm not, it's nothing like that."

"Right," he nodded, a little relieved, "so where _are_ you from?" It was a lame starter. One of those generic questions you ask someone if you can't honestly think of anything else. Like he was performing a job interview, or making awkward small talk with a neighbor. It had been a hell of a lot easier to look cool in front of the guys. Maybe because they weren't hot girls. Or pointedly avoiding sitting close enough to touch. Michael self-consciously wondered if she was even interested in him now.

"Up north, Washington. I wanted to see the world, experience new things." She said softly.

"I'm from Phoenix. Came here with my mom and brother. No big dreams about travel or anything. We just needed a change of scene."

She was quiet for a moment, "what do you think of the boys? Of all of us?" She asked, looking toward the entrance.

They'd only hung out once. It was hard to say anything was set in stone, "they're assholes," he replied, a slight tilt to his lips hinting that he was amused, "but they're alright. I had fun with all of you last night." He didn't really think it was worth mentioning that David sort of stood out among them as the more interesting one. For reasons unknown. Some people just gave off that kind of vibe.

"I'm touched," David's voice drew their attention toward the entrance to the hallway, "glad you like us enough to come back."

Michael squinted in the dark, raising his pocket flashlight to illuminate David's face. For an instant, he could swear the blonde's eyes looked almost yellow, but it was just a trick of the light. "Do you guys _live_ here?" Michael asked, honestly surprised to see him. In a good way.

David smirked, "yeah, we do."

Sam would have a shit fit. He could just imagine what his little brother would say, ' _Mike, how do you expect me to get a tv without electricity? MTV? Earth to Mike?'_ He kind of wanted to see that.

"All of you?" Michael asked, looking at Star, "where do you guys sleep? You have futons tucked away somewhere?"

David laughed, "come on, I'll show you around, some of the rooms are still serviceable." He looked at the door they were in front of, glaring at it slightly as if it offended him.

He sort of felt like he'd barged in now. Michael felt like a bit of an asshole, showing up in what was basically their home, but he'd honestly had no idea. It explained why everything in the lobby looked as if it had been well-worn. Old.

"Sure," Michael stood up, offering his hand to Star. "You wanna come?"

"You were up late, Star, why don't you get some sleep, you look tired." David said softly, honestly it sounded a little more like an order than a suggestion.

Star remained silent, nodding curtly and standing up without Michael's help. She gave him one last long look, smiling faintly, "bring a bigger flashlight next time," she advised and drifted down the corridor towards the lobby. Michael expected to feel a pang of disappointment, but he didn't.

Eyes trailing back to David's silhouette, Michael tucked his free hand into his jacket pocket and strode towards him as best he could without tripping in the dark, "how do you see anything back here?"

David pulled out one of those long metal flashlights, grinning at him from the shadows as he clicked it on, "I'm used to it. I could find my way around with my eyes closed." He shined the light at him before offering the heavy duty flashlight.

Michael gladly took it, falling in side-step with David as the blonde led him into the dark. "Star's a little stand-offiish. Did I say something to piss her off?" He asked, trying to make general conversation.

"Nah, she just doesn't want to promise something she can't give." He paused, seemingly lost in thought, "my old partner, Jasper, she was his type, always going after brunettes." He chuckled, shaking his head, "you remind me of him, actually."

That name sounded familiar. Maybe he'd known someone in junior high or middle school named Jasper. "Where is he now?" Michael asked, keeping the flashlight focused on the ground ahead of him. He'd pocketed the smaller one in his jacket.

"He was murdered," he could hear the creak of leather as David's hands clenched into fists, "a long time ago."

"Christ," Michael mumbled under his breath. What did you say to something like that? A pat on the back would just be stupid. "I'm sorry, man," Michael said, scratching the back of his head, "did they get the asshole that did it?"

He shook his head, "no but I know who did it."

Michael shouldn't ask him anything else. It'd be a dick move. But…

"How did it happen?"

David glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, "it's a long story, I'm not sure if you want to hear it or not but suffice to say he bled to death."

Michael unconsciously rubbed at his neck, for an instant feeling a little short of breath. "So, uh—what's the first stop in our grand tour here tonight?"

"Thought we could take a trip to the ballroom, all these doors lead to rooms, some in better shape than others." He said, motioning to the door lined hallway.

* * *

He was taking too long. Something was wrong. David should've been done with whatever bullshit this Max guy was planning, or at the very least made enough noise to get thrown out. Jasper loved him, but diplomacy had never been David's strong suit. That wouldn't change even if he was dealing with some unknown monster.

"David?" Jasper knocked on the door, "make it quick. It's getting late."

The sound of a body hitting the floor made him push the door open, his gun drawn and pointed. Hopefully it was Max and not David who it the floor. They could never be lucky, David was laying crumpled on the floor, his fingers loosely curled around the neck of a gaudy wine bottle. Max looked smug from his place behind his desk and Jasper wanted nothing more than to wipe that stupid little smirk off his face.

"You son of a bitch!" Jaspar shouted, holding his gun level with Max's face. He was a steady shot. Always had been. Whatever this bastard was, nothing could take having its head blown off. If he didn't move so god damned fast, Jasper would have hit him, too. In an instant, he pulled the trigger, and before he could even register the smell of gunpowder in the air, a clawed-hand was digging into his neck and slamming him to the ground. He bit back a groan of pain, his breath catching hard in his chest. Panicked, Jasper's eyes roamed over to David. He wasn't dead. There was no way.

" _David,"_ Jasper mouthed his name. Willing him to move. To do anything to show that he was still alive.

David's breathing was labored, his fingers twitching slightly around the bottle.

"You know, _obedience_ is such a hard thing to find these days. Do you think you can be a good boy and do as you're told, Jasper? Can you submit or are you going to struggle pointlessly until you wind up dead?"

Jasper gritted his teeth, a muscle twitching in his jaw, "fuck you."

David reached for him as he heard his voice, his eyes moving rapidly behind his closed eyelids.

Max shook his head, sighing heavily, "I just can't stand for such, attachment. Really, I can't. You will just make him struggle more, fight me, fight against what's happening to him now."

Jasper grasped at the hand on his neck, scratching it, digging his fingers in to try to gain some purchese, "whatever you're trying to do to him, he'll fight it," Jasper insisted, "you kill me, he'll hunt you down." He'd go crazy without David. Jasper didn't doubt David would too if something happened to him.

Black spots danced in his vision, and suddenly he couldn't remember where he was, or who the monster above him was, or anything but a sharp pain throbbing in his skull, and David hovering in front of him while he cradled his head in a long forgotten ballroom. The name Jasper disappeared, and he was Michael. Having what he could only imagine was a psychotic break.

"Michael, are you alright?" David crouched down in front of him, gently, almost hesitantly, laying a hand on his cheek. The touch felt so familiar, like he knew it from another life.

Against every instinct his body seemed to have to just relax and stay there with David until his freakish headache subsided, Michael batted his hand away and scrambled to his feet, "what the fuck?!" He demanded, "did you _drug me_?" It seemed to be the only explanation he could process. Michael was just on a bad trip, somehow, even though he hadn't eaten or had anything to drink, and David was the reason why.

David scowled, standing slowly, "no, I haven't done anything to you. You just spaced out suddenly and collapsed. I barely caught you before you hit the ground."

Michael was overwhelmed. This was too much. "Listen, it's been fun," he held David's flashlight out to him, fishing his own pocket light out and turning it on, "but I'm gonna head out." Drugs or a psychotic break, or whatever it was, he couldn't be here anymore. Could barely breathe.

David waved off the flashlight, "I'll take you out. Maybe a ride would help you feel better."

Yeah, a ride and maybe half of the pills in his mom's medicine cabinet. Michael put a hand to his head, "I just-I think I'm going crazy."

"Why?" He asked, walking beside him, "you can talk to me, I won't judge." He assured and Michael knew he meant it.

He didn't even know how to explain it. One second they were chatting and walking through the hotel, and the next all of _that_ happened. "I don't know," Michael said, hesitant, "it was like I was suddenly dreaming. I saw this—thing, this guy, and I was someone else, then you were there…" Michael shook his head, "I'm really losing it."

David laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, "reincarnation?" Michael couldn't tell if he was trying to lighten the mood or if he was serious, "past memories, maybe? I'd rather not think you're losing your mind."

"Let's just get out of here, forget it," Michael said quickly. The guy was probably putting on an act right now, he'd spread the word that Michael was a nutjob, then all at once the whole group (including Star) would be conveniently too busy to hang out again.

"Want company on that ride tonight or do you need some alone time?" He asked, leading the way out to the main entryway. .

"I think I need to be alone," Michael replied quietly, embarrassed, and at the same time very concerned that there was something seriously wrong with him. Mental illness didn't run in the family as far as he knew, but then again his grandpa did have his own personal dead animal museum. So maybe it did.

David suddenly stopped in front of him, sending him stumbling into the wall, cutting his hand on a stone jutting out from the wall. The blonde glared toward the opening, the sound of raucous fighting filling the air.

"Those assholes."

Michael grimaced, pulling his hand back to examine it. There was a cut. Not a deep one, just enough for blood to pool in his palm and drip to the ground, "shit!" He cursed.

David turned, taking his hand in his, "damn," he pulled a white bandana from his pocket, deftly wrapping it around his wounded hand, "tonight is just not your night, is it? Maybe tomorrow will be better, if you want to ride with us then or just want some company we'll be here." He said, clapping him on the shoulder and leading him the rest of the way out.

Michael didn't want to leave. Despite his freak-out, and the injured hand, and the subtle 'let's just be friends' treatment from Star, he really did want to stay. But he left, once the bandana had staunched his bleeding enough for him to give it back to David. He'd use some gauze or something when he got home. The boys all saw him off, Marko looking a little dejected at the prospect of him leaving, they felt like family, they felt like home, and maybe that was a problem but he just couldn't bring himself to see it that way.

* * *

Max was happy. He had found the perfect woman, she even had two sons of her own, raising four more troublemakers shouldn't be much of a problem. She would help keep them in line. Boys need a mother after all, someone soft spoken, and Lucy fit the bill perfectly. David had always been a difficult one, perhaps deciding to dispose of Jasper hadn't been his brightest moment but it had been necessary. They were too close to each other after all.

"Miss, pardon me, but are you Lucy Emerson?" A server tapped Lucy on the shoulder, just as they were about to toast.

"Yes," she said, "is something wrong?"

"You have a phone call."

Lucy frowned. A delicate sort of frown, concerned and motherly. The woman was incapable of anything harsh. "Max, I'm sorry, will you excuse me?" She asked, setting her napkin on the table.

He smiled at her, "of course, Lucy." She would be back soon, he was a patient man after all. However, after ten minutes and still no sign of Lucy, he couldn't help but wonder what was taking so long.

The waiter reappeared, bowing his head politely, "sir, the lady seemed to have had something come up. She left very quickly. I do hope everything is alright, and would you like me to bring you the check?" As he spoke, Max turned to see Lucy running towards her car, the beautiful view dining outside had given them ruined by her sudden departure.

He sighed heavily, "yes, please, the check will be fine." He would visit his boys after this, tell them to find their new brothers and bring them into the family.

What on earth could have driven her into such a panic was anyone's guess. Her father had likely gotten sick or hurt, which really was of no consequence. There would be no room for him in their home anyway.

He had no reason to finish his meal. It was just an act anyway. Pasta primavera and champagne were delightful for the sake of indulging, but they provided no nutrition, no real benefit. Blood was far superior to any true wine, so he didn't bother taking the rest of his meal home. Instead, Max decided to pay his boys a visit. See whether they had found Lucy's sons and done their work properly to induct them, or at the very least become friends.

He drove out to the hotel, _his_ hotel, a lone motorcycle passing him on the way. The hair was too short to belong to Dwayne and it wasn't blonde so that ruled the others out. The boys rarely split up so who had that been? David was sure to have an answer.

He stepped out of his car, making his way down the old stairs and stepping into what was once the foyer of _his_ hotel. Oh how he missed those days back before the quake ruined everything. Of course the boys made it home, it felt more like _theirs_ these days than its rightful owners.

David was pacing in front of the fountain, the others watching him from various perches around the room. Something had agitated their so called leader and he needed to know what.

"What do you want, Max?" David asked, stopping and turning to face him.

Whatever the source of this particular temper tantrum, Max hadn't a clue. Perhaps they'd over-hunted this week and resented having to travel a little further for their bacchanalian killing sprees. No matter, Max honestly didn't care.

"I've come to check on my boys. Have you met with Lucy's children yet?" He noticed the girl they'd brought into the family wasn't anywhere to be found. Pity. Sooner or later they would have to be introduced.

David raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, "you never did give us names, it's always, Lucy this, Lucy that, they're just Lucy's boys. Maybe if we had a couple names to work with I could tell you but I've been a little busy the last few nights."

Patiently, Max strode over to David's sorry excuse for a chair and sat down, reminding him pointedly _who_ was the master here, "I would think you'd have been smart enough to find them on your own. I gave you their address, didn't I?"

"Yeah, that old man knows about us though, better not to have been seen snooping around, now isn't it?"

Max steepled his fingers, leaning back in the seat as comfortably as he could manage, "since when has something like that ever stopped you from doing anything?"

David glared at him, "I'm not an idiot, we're not as stupid as you like to think we are. We have impulse control," he paused briefly, "well, I suppose Paul doesn't but he's the exception, not the rule."

Paul let out a short, sharp laugh, leaning against the wall as he brought a cigarette to his lips. Max ignored him in favor of David, who always seemed to be the one most worthy of notice. The one who thought too much and said too much all at once. "David," Max said his name quite calmly, "the oldest one's name is Michael. The youngest is Samuel. I have given you the world. Time and again, I've even overlooked your skirting of the rules I've set out for all of you boys. I would give you the shirt off my back if it was necessary. I would appreciate you put a little more effort into doing this for me. You might enjoy having more brothers to keep you company."

The name Michael gave David pause before the blonde laughed, "ah, the irony!" He looked at the other boys smirking, "have you met Michael yet?"

"Michael?" Marko asked, crouching down with a pigeon in his hands, smoothing fingers through its feathers, "I dunno. Do you know, Dwayne?"

Dwayne smirked, "I dunno, Paul, have you met Michael?"

"Wait," Paul let a puff of smoke stream from his lips, tilting his head back, "who wants to know?"

Max felt a spike of irritation. However, he continued to remain calm, "I'll give you two days. If you haven't secured one or both of those boys with the blood, I can't answer for the consequences." He stood up, "I trust you remember what I had to do the last time the four of you stepped out of line. I would hate to remind you."

David's hands clenched into fists, "Max, what do you think of reincarnation?" He asked softly, there was something odd in his eyes and Max wasn't sure what to think of it. Perhaps he needed to visit more often.

"Reincarnation?" Max repeated, rolling the word around in his head. "It's a pretty thought. There is, however, one true form of immortality. No, I do not believe in _that_ fairytale. Otherwise I should think I'd have met several people throughout the centuries time and again. As far as I'm aware, I haven't."

David smirked, "well, I look forward to seeing you and Michael meet. You did just miss him after all, he left right before you got here."

That was certainly unexpected, "you didn't give him any blood yet," Max pointed out. He'd have felt that, certainly. He felt the tie to all of his children, even the girl.

"These things take time and when you meet Michael you'll know why."

Max stood up, smoothing his coat and re-adjusting his glasses, "two days," he stated firmly, "after that I will be forced to take matters into my own hands, and you won't like it. Understood?"

David crossed his arms back over his chest, "oh, we hear you, don't we boys?"

"Loud and clear," Marko shouted, letting his pigeon take flight just as Thorn padded slowly into the room and nestled beside the couch.

"Your dog looks like it could use a good meal," Max advised, turning his back on them. The thing looked absolutely miserable. Why wouldn't it? This hotel was a mess.

"Oh, trust me, he's actually much happier now. Did you know, he loves Michael."

What was David getting at with all of this? Was he losing his mind? It did happen sometimes the older you got. Perhaps he needed a vacation to somewhere less-sunny.

"I find that difficult to believe, hellhounds aren't really the sort to enjoy human company," Max remarked, heading towards the lobby exit. He had the strangest feeling. There was a familiar scent in the air he couldn't quite place, and he didn't like it one bit.


	4. The First Kill

"I still can't believe you freaked out and thought Nanook had turned into a hellhound," Michael snarked, slugging Sam's shoulder in passing towards the kitchen sink. This kind of crap happened any time his little brother even so much as looked at a horror movie poster. Why he'd even bought that dumb comic was beyond Michael. Sam didn't even like to wander into the horror movie aisle at a video store.

Lucy looked over at her older son from her position at the kitchen counter, "Michael stop teasing your brother. Sam, can you go set the table?"

Sam grumbled under his breath, something about glowing eyes and sharp teeth, as he went about setting the table.

Michael sort of wanted to go out, but after yesterday—mortified would be the understatement of the century. He hated staying home, and he _wanted_ to go back to the hotel, but there was no way they'd want anything to do with him after the scene he made. He still didn't know what the hell had happened to him. Stress? Then again, David had said he would be welcomed back. Maybe they would be at the boardwalk, then he wouldn't have to embarrass himself by going to the hotel and being laughed at.

"Mom, I'm not really that hungry. I think I'm gonna head out to the Boardwalk tonight," he said quietly, grabbing his jacket from the kitchen chair he'd flung it over.

"But honey, you'll be home tomorrow to meet Max."

Michael slipped his jacket on, nodding, "sure, yeah." He was a little distracted by his need to just get out of there and find out if he really had ruined his chances at having any friends in Santa Carla. Sure, he was glad for his mom, too, but she'd only known the guy for a couple days. Dinner with the family seemed a little soon to him.

"Alright, come home at a decent time tonight, won't you?"

"Yeah, promise," Michael replied briskly, leaning over to kiss Lucy on the cheek. A couple of days ago, Santa Carla was just a place. Today there was actually something here to be excited about. He told himself it was Star. It felt like a lie.

He bypassed Sam in the dining room and left through the front door, hoping they'd be hanging out there. Maybe even waiting for him at the boardwalk already on some off chance. It was starting to get dark, but there was enough light for him to see that the ride was a fairly easy one. No unexpected animals leaping out in front of him, or stupid drivers on the dirt road winding from his grandpa's place.

He parked his bike on the wooden slats at the edge of the boardwalk closest to the beach, relieved to see several other familiar bikes nearby. Now all he had to do was find them. Michael tamped down his excitement, keeping his cool as he explored shops and stalls, trying to find some sign of them. Unconsciously, the one he was searching for the most intently was David.

"Michael!" David's voice called to him over the crowds, the sea of people seemed to part for the blonde as he made his way over to where Michael stood.

"Hey," Michael greeted him once he was close enough that he didn't have to yell, "where's everyone else?" He really hoped they'd just pretend the other night didn't happen. It would be easier if he didn't have the bandage around his hand as an awkward reminder.

"Around, they're finishing up a couple things. I was thinking, you need a little something to help you realize that you're one of us and we're not going to just abandon you." He said, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

Michael grinned sheepishly, "am I that obvious?"

David chuckled, "yeah, last night especially. Sounded like you thought we would think you're crazy. Trust me, you're not crazy." He flicked Michael's ear lightly, "I think we'll pierce this tonight, we've all got one."

He'd noticed. Michael drew a hand to his ear, rubbing it, "like at a stall or something?" He didn't really have the extra cash besides what he'd earned cleaning up at the beach over the last few mornings.

David shook his head, "no, I'll do it."

Michael nodded, "cool," though he felt inclined to add the question "is Star gonna hang out with us tonight?"

"Do you want her to? I think Dwayne was going to take her out for a bit but I'm sure there can be a change of plans."

"Nah," he shook his head, "if they have plans, that's cool." So maybe she liked Dwayne. Michael's pride was a little hurt.

David stopped, turning to face him, his hands on his shoulders, "don't look so down, Thorn wants to see you. Let's go to the hotel, the others will come soon, and I can get your ear pierced and you can see the mutt."

Michael frowned, suddenly a little defensive, though _why_ he didn't really know, "he's not a mutt." Never mind the dog wasn't even his and he called Sam's husky a mutt all the time.

David raised his hands in supplication, "alright, won't call him a mutt again, he wants to see you regardless, he's been sad."

"I doubt that, but I'll bite," Michael agreed, smirking, "just don't give me something goofy like a broken heart or any bullshit like that." He paused, clarifying, "the earring."

"Oh, trust me, I have just the thing." He smirked as he got on his bike, "race you there."

"My bike's gonna give out if we keep doing this," Michael said wryly.

* * *

David had just the thing to solidify Michael's position in their ranks. The earring had burned a hole in his pocket since Jasper's death and now it would be returning to where it rightfully belonged. They made it back to the hotel without incident, Michael howling into the wind with the blonde, and just as he'd said, Thorn was waiting for them. The hellhound looked ecstatic, his tail wagging happily as he bounced on his paws the moment he saw Michael. He'd probably been doing it since he _smelled_ the brunette. The large white dog was off like a shot, breezing past David and launching himself at Michael.

The human was no match for the sheer, unadulterated joy of an immortal dog, and especially not one Thorn's size, stumbling back against the wall as he tried to steady his footing, "whoa!" Michael called out, digging his fingers into the fur on the back of the dog's neck and viciously devoting a solid minute to petting and coddling him until Thorn was relaxed enough to jump to the ground and let Michael walk by.

The dog trotted beside him, panting happily, tail still wagging. David chuckled softly, settling on the couch, "come here and sit, want a drink before you get pierced?" He had done it enough, it would be practically painless but Michael was still so fragile, so human, it would hurt a little.

"What do you have?" Michael asked, sitting down on the couch, "I don't think a beer's gonna do the trick."

Marko and Paul slipped into the lobby, grinning together and giving each other secretive nods.

"Hard to keep up with you ladies," Paul snarked.

Michael gave him the bird, unphased, while David pulled out a bottle of Jack, "here."

"Oh, you're doing it tonight?" Marko asked, giving Paul a playful shove for no other reason than to screw with him as they battled over the rights of sitting on the fountain edge.

Taking the bottle of Jack, Michael had a good swig or two before passing it back, "I think I can handle it."

David nodded, brushing Michael's hair back, "wanna see it first?" He asked, reaching into his pocket and feeling the small dangling earring between his fingers. He remembered when he gave it to Jasper. Their first decent robbery. Some rich asshole's house. A banker or something equally as boring.

"Yeah, sure," Michael agreed, grinning.

He pulled it out, holding it up to the light, "shows you're one of us, Michael, and we won't abandon you."

A flicker of recognition in Michael's eyes sparked to life, before fading just as quickly. "I like it," Michael remarked, "getting some deja vous right now, though."

David smirked, "nothing wrong with that, tip your head." The moment he had he didn't give Michael a chance to tense up or think about what was going to happen. In one smooth movement he had grabbed his ear and shoved the earring into place. The scent of freshly-pricked skin and blood drifted in the air.

"That wasn't too bad," Michael remarked, drawing a hand up to his ear to touch where the metal had pierced, "hope it doesn't get infected," he joked.

The boys laughed and David spoke, "so, Michael, what do you want to do tonight?"

Michael leaned back against the couch, slinging an arm casually over the back as he pondered the question. "So there's the beach and the boardwalk," he began, looking up at the ceiling and then back at David, his earring glittering in the firelight, "what else is there to do around here?"

Their usual rites of passage wouldn't work since Michael hadn't become even half of what they were yet. While David thought, Thorn buried his head in Michael's lap.

Marko nudged Paul's shoulder, "what about bowling?"

Paul shook his head quickly, "we had a party there last year, remember?"

Marko bit the thumb of his glove, avoiding David's eyes, "right."

David tapped his finger against his chin, "want to go _borrow_ a couple horses? There's a place outside of town." Why not give Michael a taste of how things used to be?

Michael shrugged, "I've never ridden a horse," he frowned slightly, looking a little thoughtful, "and I don't have a record." He couldn't bely the look of intense interest in his eyes, though. It wouldn't take much convincing.

David waved his hand, "we won't get caught, and I bet once you get on you'll have no problems. Come on, Michael, trust me, it'll be fun."

"Okay, okay," he relented, sitting up, "but if we're caught, you guys are covering my bail."

They all grinned, "deal!" Marko shouted, "come on, let's go rustle up some horses."

David was the first on his feet, making his way out of the hotel, "let's go boys, we're gonna teach Michael how to really ride."

* * *

Dwayne wasn't one to fuss. He preferred to silently watch, judge, and only make his thoughts known if they were going to avoid outright disaster otherwise. He was, however, a little disappointed to be on babysitting duty tonight. Paul and Marko cheated, of course, because not once had Dwayne ever drawn anything but the short straw for this sort of thing. Star was lucky he had.

"Are you hungry?" He asked her, offering a hand to help her step down from the slowing carousel.

She nodded, taking his hand, "yes," she bit her lip slightly, "I still don't know what to do."

"I don't have any advice," he admitted frankly. He hardly even remembered his first kill. It had been easy, he knew that much. "You'll starve if you don't kill."

She swallowed hard, looking down at the ground before looking back at him, "can you help me? Please, Dwayne.""

He led her out towards the beach. Nobody had heard them talking, and if they had then they certainly weren't sticking around.

"You'll have to start sleeping properly with us, once it's done," he told her, "think you can do that?"

She nodded, "I can't take the hunger anymore, it hurts so much, and having Michael there is hard."

Probably for more reasons than one. "Okay," Dwayne said quietly, offering her his hand as they made their way off of the steps of the docks, "there's a few drifters down the shoreline. Drunk. They'll be easy."

She squeezed his hand, nodding. Perhaps it was good that David had left this to Dwayne. Maybe she would actually feed if he coaxed her into it. They walked down the beach, her grasp tight around his hand, "what is it about Michael that has all of you so," she paused, "attached?"

Dwayne didn't quite know how to answer that. "He's one of us," he explained, "he was and he is. We lost him years ago, and this is a second chance."

She scowled, "like amnesia?"

Dwayne shook his head, "something else. Maybe reincarnation. I don't know yet. David's convinced, though, and I'm beginning to believe it too."

She looked out toward where the homeless slept, "when did you know him? Thorn seems to love him."

"When we were human," Dwayne replied simply, "before your grandmother was a twinkle in her father's eye." There were two men sleeping under a shaded fishing dock. Moonlight sliced into their ratty sleeping cots, washing them clean. "Breathe," he advised Star, "and just let go."

He watched intently as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The smell of life, of blood, was thick in the air as she fell upon them, feeding for the first time. She was beautiful in her viciousness, it was actually quite impressive.

* * *

"Where did Marko go?" Michael whispered, leaning over the rails of the gate and watching the pair of horses intently. This was crazy. They weren't seriously going to take someone's horses for a joyride. It had to be some sort of elaborate prank.

David hopped over the fence, grabbing a halter and lead rope off a nearby fence post, "it's like they _want_ them to be ridden." He said, ignoring Michael's question as he held out a hand and slowly approached the closest one.

 _Jesus Christ, I'm gonna break my neck,_ he thought to himself. Should've just brought the bottle of Jack with them. Paul was next over the fence, oddly calm for a guy as spazzy as he seemed to perpetually be.

Michael shook his head, finally climbing over the fence to join the pair, landing softly in the grass. He could feel the water from the afternoon's rain soaking through to his sneakers from errant overgrown blades.

"What should I do?" He whispered, drawing a little closer to one of the horses, maintaining his cool as best he could. The horse in front of him was skittish, but not quite scared enough to flee to the other side of the enclosure. Michael held a hand out, urging the creature forward. It seemed natural enough, as long as he did his best to keep calm. After some hesitation, it stepped forward once. Then again. Then, finally, nudged its snout against his palm.

David smirked at him, rubbing the neck of the one he had managed to get close to, before easily slipping the halter on with practiced movements. Paul stayed quiet, getting a halter and lead for Michael. He approached carefully, his voice quiet as he got just close enough to hand it over to the brunette.

As if he'd done it a thousand times, Michael did just as David had, securing the halter, all the while keeping the horse as calm as he could manage. Its skittishness had almost entirely faded, though Michael didn't doubt that if Paul were to move too quickly towards them, the horse would try to bolt.

"That was easy," Michael whispered, surprised at himself.

David looked at Paul, "should be a bridle around here somewhere, don't need a saddle." He said, "go find us a couple."

No saddle? He had to be kidding.

"Gotcha!" Paul agreed in the loudest whisper Michael had ever heard, saluting David before disappearing over the side of the fence and across the field towards an open barn.

"So is Marko keeping watch?" Michael asked, focusing on his horse, stroking it's head with a soft smile. This was actually pretty fun.

David nodded, "yeah."

There was an electric energy in the air, like they needed to do something wild. Michael grinned, leading the horse towards the gate with ease. It had become nearly docile under his guiding hand, despite the fact that he'd never even touched a horse before, let alone attempted to temporarily steal one. He looked over at David, almost on impulse. It hardly registered at all that he wanted to pull the blonde into a fierce hug, maybe something more. For an intense moment, it felt like they really were the only two people left in the world. Bathed by the stars and the night sky.

David smirked at him as Paul came back with a pair of bridles. Michael required no instruction, it felt as though he had done this a thousand times before. Slipping the bit easily into the horse's mouth and sliding it over his ears before buckling it into place. When he finally looked back at David again he was grasping the horse's mane and hauling himself up and onto the horse, settling into place as though he belonged there.

"Let's go, Michael," his voice was soft, cajoling, "time to let loose."

Paul was smart enough to pull the gate open wide and stay well out of the way, laughing as David and Michael took off through the night. Not for one second did Michael wonder why this felt so perfect and natural. It was almost like a routine, albeit a bit more wild than what he would have expected. Nothing had ever been this exciting. Not his race with David on the bluff. Not his family's uprooting from Phoenix to only god knew what. Not Star. He could feel his heart in his chest, hammering a thousand miles a minute, and he loved every second.

David let out a whoop, so different from the howls that had echoed through the night on that fateful race. "I told you, Michael! You were born for this!"

If he could catch his breath, he would have laughed, but Michael only held tighter to the reins, grinning ear to ear. He had no idea how long they rode, or really how fast, but he wished it would last forever. Maybe if they were in another time or place, it might have, and Michael could forget that eventually he'd have to go home and leave them. Leave David behind. Go back to school. It didn't sour his mood, but he felt a strange sense of sadness as if whatever this was that they had together as friends had somehow ended. When they finally let their horses slow to a canter and then a full stop, everything hit him all at once. This was only a one time thing. A fun experience. Sooner or later, they'd have to part ways.

Slowly, Michael climbed down from his horse, once he'd caught his breath. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding it.

"That was incredible," he admitted, closing his eyes and letting the wind wash over him.

David pulled up beside him, "it doesn't have to end, you know." He said, looking up at the moon, "all this, the night, the company, even the horses."

Michael opened his eyes, looking up at David, "what do you mean?" It was nice to pretend. He really wished he could believe it, but sooner or later everything ended.

"You don't have to leave, you don't have to go back to that life, the monotony of school, of boring normalcy. Stay with us, Michael, _be_ one of us." David coaxed.

For a good, long minute, Michael was silent. It was a lot to ask, and while he was having fun - he still had a family, he still had a life apart from the fun he was having with these guys he'd hardly even known for a week. On some level, he wished he could say yes, but he couldn't do that to his mom. He couldn't do that to his brother, either. Sam didn't have a lot of friends or people he could relate to right now.

"I don't think I can do that," Michael finally replied, taking a deep breath and letting it out very slowly, stroking his horse's mane. "We can hang out, though. Nothing stopping us from doing that. I can't leave my family right now. They need me."

David huffed, "I never said you had to abandon them, the offer will always be open."

Michael laughed, "let me finish high school, alright? I'll think about it."

"What's the point? What are you planning to do with a piece of paper?" He asked, rubbing his horse's neck.

"Well, for starters, it'll be easier to get a decent job," Michael pointed out, "not a great one, but better than picking up trash on the beach. Plus, my little brother's a dick. He'd never let me live it down."

David let out a snort before laughing, "don't think I won't stop trying to change your mind but I'll drop it for now."

Michael smirked, looking around, "guess we should get these guys locked back up before their owners notice they're gone."

Michael felt something sharp tapping on his shoulder and jumped, spinning about immediately with a start to find Marko grinning at him, "hey, coast is clear guys, just checked on the fogeys in the house. They're out like a light."

Scowling, Michael looked at Marko's hands. "You need to trim your nails, dude."

David shook his head, "go back with Paul, Marko. Michael and I'll be back soon."

Marko rolled his eyes, "man," he muttered under his breath, "Marko, do this, Marko do that..." he trailed off, stomping through the grass towards Paul, who was calmly leaning against the gate with a joint between his fingers, grinning.

Michael raised an eyebrow, "that was weird."

"He's a mouthy little bitch sometimes, come on, let's ride a little longer." He said, turning his horse and walking out into the night, seeming to know that Michael would follow.

* * *

It had been a long, boring day. Between the few reps he'd managed in the morning, and the few chores their grandpa could come up with, Michael truly realized the depths of how empty a house could be without television or books. He'd never been a big reader, granted, but it was _something_ to do. After staying up so late with the guys, he couldn't honestly imagine they'd want to wake up early and hang out.

Tonight his mom had invited Max over for dinner. Michael wasn't too hot about meeting his mom's hopeful boyfriend, but he'd promised. He regretted it, but what could he do now? He was stuck.

That evening, when dinner was just about finished, Michael was trusted with the grave task of grabbing his brother to help set the table. Which wouldn't have been very weird, if opening the door didn't reveal such a bizarre scene.

"What the hell are you doing, Sam?!"

Sam and two boys were sitting around a stack of open comics arguing about, well, Michael wasn't sure what, but those comics were ones Sam didn't usually read.

"Vampires, Mike! They're real!" He exclaimed as the doorbell rang.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that or see you." He said, escaping downstairs to answer the door.

Michael shook his head, bewildered at how weird his little brother could be. Maybe on some level MTV had been keeping him sane. He reached for the door handle, expecting to find either his grandpa had locked himself outside, or his mom's new boyfriend had arrived for dinner. What Michael did not expect, however, was the most intense headache and blinding rage he had ever experienced in his life.

It was him. The guy from his fucked-up daydream. No, not a dream. A _memory._

"Max," he whispered the name, drawing a hand to his neck where he could feel sticky-slick blood pouring from a ragged wound.

" _Dav-" He couldn't even speak anymore. Fuck, it was cold. He'd spent three days trapped in Max's room, starving, desperately scratching at the walls. All so Max could drag him out and show David and the others how he was going to die. Oh god._

_"Jasper," David's hand pressed to the wound, his voice was strained, "come on, don't die on me, not now."_

_He could see David's face, twisted by the same demonic features Max had, but he wasn't afraid. He wasn't afraid to die now, either. He wasn't..._

Everything came back. The memories. The few years he'd spent with his friends, almost a century ago, and finally his own death. All of it.

"You son of a bitch!" Michael shouted, delivering a punch to Max's surprised face with all of the force he could muster.

Max seemed frozen, taking the hit out of pure surprise. Michael knew the bastard was fast and maybe if he had been more prepared he could have avoided it, but instead he took the full force of Michael's punch. Those fake little glasses breaking into a million pieces.

The demon glared at him, from his place on the ground, and Michael gave him a swift kick to the side before heading for his bike. He needed to see David and the others, screw dinner.

* * *

Max got to his feet slowly, staring after the young man. There was something oddly familiar about him. It was no matter, he would make Michael come around eventually, hopefully David would do his job and grant Max some modicum of control over the rebellious teen.

"Max! Michael!" Lucy shouted, rushing towards Max, looking outside, "Oh my god, Max, what happened?" Sweet, tender Lucy likely couldn't conceive of Michael's violence.

He smiled at her, the bruise he would have left already healed, "I'm fine, Lucy, no need to worry. Just give the boy some space." That violence, that killer instinct, was something to be nurtured, not punished.

Lucy shook her head, "honestly, he's usually so sweet. Did something set him off?" She really was a perfect motherly figure. All she needed was a firm hand at her side.

"It's nothing, he's just worried about you."

She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, resting the other hand on her hips. "I just wanted to have a nice dinner tonight. He promised he would stay to talk to you. I didn't expect him to do something like that at all. All I can think is maybe he misses his father, or this move has been too stressful. I'm so sorry, Max."

He laid a hand on her shoulder, "it really is alright. Perhaps I should come back another night, perhaps he will have had a change of heart."

"No," Lucy said, shaking her head, "no, I do want you to meet Sam. He's been looking forward to meeting you and apolo-"

"Mom," Sam called out, appearing in a doorway nearby with two rather sour-looking boys, "this is Edgar Frog and this is Alan Frog, I set an extra place for them so they can eat dinner with us."

The look on Lucy's face was a mixture of shock, and overwhelming anxiety, " _Sam!"_

Max smiled faintly, "Lucy, perhaps tomorrow would be a better time. I can come back."

Lucy sighed, "no, don't be silly. Come in and I can help you with the bruise on your cheek," she looked back over at her son, "Sam, we'll talk about this later. I'd appreciate some advanced warning the next time you bring guests over for dinner."

* * *

There was too much to process right now, too many thoughts and memories. So Michael decided to stare forward at the solitary light on the road ahead and do his best not to think of anything but his next step. He pushed himself to his limit, very nearly getting into a nasty accident in his rush to get to the hotel. His family would be safe for now. He remembered the sick fucking cat and mouse game to know all too well that Max was so fond of playing with people. Telling his mom and brother tonight what he was wouldn't be his style. The few seconds he'd spent in the prick's company before he decked him were more than enough to figure that out.

"David!" Michael shouted, once he'd climbed off of his bike and stumbled up the rickety steps to the hotel entrance. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs.

"Michael?" David was the only one in the hotel lobby and the moment he heard Michael's voice he was on his feet and walking toward him, "what's wrong?"

Wordlessly, desperately, Michael lashed out to grab the lapels of David's coat and pulled him in for a bruising kiss, willing every painful memory to fade enough into numb acceptance. David froze for a moment before returning it, pulling him flush against his body. After a minute Michael was forced to pull away in order to breathe.

"Michael, what's going on?" David asked softly, the bastard wasn't even out of breath.

Panting, Michael didn't even know where to begin. It made him sick to think that his friends had been under Max's thumbs for so long. Almost a century.

"I remember," Michael rasped, "all of it. Everything."

David pressed their lips together again hungrily, holding him tight as if to never let him go, "fuck, how?" He asked, once he finally pulled away to allow Michael to breathe again.

"I met Max," Michael replied, the name tasting bitter. Sour. "I saw-" his voice cracked, "-I saw the last day, when I…" He couldn't even force himself to say it. When he died. "Then I decked him and came here," Michael finished with a slight smirk.

David chuckled softly, "good," he leaned his head against Michael's shoulder, "he wants your family, he wants you, I won't let him have you, but I'm not sure how to protect you except by giving you my blood. I can't lose you, not again."

Michael tensed a little, though he didn't for a second want to pull away. Never again. He remembered distinctly what would happen if he took either David's, or Max's or any other vampire's blood. On the last day before Max had killed him, the bastard had explained in detail everything it entailed.

"I can't kill people, David," Michael whispered, "I mean I can't eat them." He wasn't going to pretend he didn't have blood on his hands from his life as Jasper. He wasn't sorry for it either. There hadn't been one son of a bitch who didn't deserve the lead in his gut.

"Kill the deserving then, those who won't be missed." He grumbled into his shoulder, "everything changes, everything is different once you've drank, but I won't force you to do anything."

He wasn't going to start on what a shitty argument that was. Killing the deserving. So Michael just enjoyed the moment for awhile. He didn't want to think about anything going forward. Just this. "I wasn't gone," he mumbled, settling his own head on David's shoulder, "I stuck around for a while. You couldn't see me, but I was there. For a long time."

"I thought I felt you, for awhile, I couldn't let go, I made Max's life a living hell for awhile. Until he broke every bone in my body and left me in a closet until I healed."

Michael closed his eyes, drinking in the scent of cigarette smoke and leather. "I know," he replied softly, "I remember that too." There were worse things than death. Far worse. "I'm going to kill him." He would make it every bit as painful as David's suffering, and the rest of theirs. He just didn't know _how_ yet.

"Michael, I won't force you, I told you that, but the only way you're going to survive is to take my blood. He'll have no control over you, no link, and you'll be strong enough to kill him."

"I could fight him during the day," Michael pointed out, though how he'd manage to find Max's house without making his mom or Sam suspicious was beyond him. David probably knew where Max lived. "So just show me the house and I'll take care of it."

David shook his head, "he got a new dog, since Thorn refuses to go back, and the asshole can be awake during the day. You won't get close enough to him to end him before he wakes up."

"I can handle it," Michael insisted stubbornly, pulling back. "I just need to take a gun with me. Should work on a dog."

David closed his eyes, holding him tighter, "if you don't take the blood you'll grow old and die and leave me alone again."

Michael's pride dissipated a little, and the ugly memories of watching David and the others for decades came back to roost. "You waited for me," he said in sudden realization, "did you know I'd come back?"

"I hoped, I swore I would find you no matter what. I had to believe in something, I had to believe in you."

Michael closed his eyes, already knowing the answer to his next question, "would you wait for me again? If you had to?"

David pulled back and turned away, "I don't want to, I have you now, but I would wait an eternity for you."

Opening his eyes, Michael stared at the back of David's coat, taking in the details of the age-worn fabric. Not as old as him. Not nearly as old as the earrings they all wore. It was easy to replace a coat. Who knew if he'd be able to come back again. Maybe he wouldn't.

"Alright," Michael whispered, "I'll do it, you stubborn asshole."

David turned back to him, wrapping his arms around him tightly, "you won't regret it."

"I'm gonna need some time," Michael pointed out, "I'll drink tonight, but I don't want to kill. Okay?"

David let out a snort, "alright, Michael." He didn't sound like he believed him, "I won't force you."


	5. The First Taste

"Come on, we'll go to one of the back rooms to do this." David remembered how intoxicating the blood was.

"Which one?" Michael asked, still hesitant. He was Jasper, yes, and he remembered that. Still, he was Michael too. Thinking of him by another name was difficult. "Is Max's office still there?"

"Yeah, you wanna do it there?"

"I think so," Michael replied quietly, nodding. He wasn't especially excited about this. He had no idea what he was in for.

David nodded, leading the way into the bowels of the hotel. This room was one of the few preserved and one that David hated visiting but if this was where Michael wanted to do it, this was where it would be.

The desk was gone. The carpet faded and caked with dirt. Still, it was recognizable. The throne room of the soon-to-be former master of Santa Carla. "There's no blood," Michael remarked, sounding almost perplexed when he squinted in the darkness and directed a small pocket light towards the exact spot he'd been murdered.

"He did have it cleaned, well, he forced us to clean it. The floor beneath the carpet is probably stained though." That was a memory he wished he could forget, having to clean up the spilled blood of his partner.

"I'm sorry," Michael said, "it's stupid to apologize for dying, but I'm sorry." He turned his light out and pocketed it, holding a hand out to David, "gonna need your help figuring out where to sit for this. What do you want me to do?" He was calmer now. Not scared. Never scared.

David settled in the middle of the floor, legs spread slightly, "come here and sit down with your back to me. It'll be more comfortable than suddenly dropping to the floor."

Michael looked dubious, even in the dark. Still, surprisingly, he didn't have any remark, slowly lowering himself to the ground as he took off his jacket and set it aside. At a look from David, he shrugged, "if this is messy, I don't want to get any stains on it." He felt around on the ground, obviously trying to avoid any potential obstacles as he scooted towards David and sat down with his back towards him. He wasn't especially relaxed.

David pulled him back against his chest, "it's been a long time since we sat like this." He mused, resting his chin on Michael's shoulder.

Michael settled his arms over David's. The warmth of his skin contrasted sharply against the vampire's. "Yeah," he agreed, some of the tension dissipating. "You miss it?"

"The open range and a horse? Yeah."

For a moment, they were silent, listening to the empty echoes of trapped air and dripping water throughout the hotel. A century of settling rubble. "That too," Michael said, not quite laughing. "So what now?"

"Now, you drink my blood." He said, slitting open his wrist using a long claw-like nail. The blood welled up quickly, dark and rich, the scent of it filled the room.

Michael's breath caught in his throat, his pulse picking up speed, "Christ, just like that?!" It wasn't entirely surprising. He was human, after all. They didn't typically do this sort of thing unless they had a bizarre fetish.

He brought his wrist toward Michael's lips, "don't think about it, just taste it and you'll understand."

Distant hollering signaled the arrival of the others from their hunt. It very nearly drowned out the sound of Michael's sharp intake of breath as he prepared himself, quickly bringing a hand to David's wrist and pressing his mouth against it. There was no turning back now.

A shudder ran through David's body, his arm tightening around Michael's waist. It felt so very good to have Michael drinking from him. Finally, finally they would be together. As the blood poured into Michael's mouth, distant memories became vivid of long nights spent riding or trading watch, always there for each other.

By now, Michael had completely relaxed, his grip tightening on David's wrist while intense waves of euphoria washed over him. The blood, fresh and strong, was an instant addiction and once he tasted human blood, there was no going back. David knew, he _knew_ , Michael would kill, it was only a matter of time.

When he'd finally had his fill and released David's wrist, Michael let his head fall back against David's shoulder, panting sharply. The room around them would look a hundred times brighter as the blood hit him. Everything would.

"How do you feel?" He asked softly.

"Mmh," Michael groaned softly, "the best." His voice was becoming a little slurred as the effects of the blood took hold.

David chuckled, stroking his fingers through his hair gently, "you'll feel a little drunk and high for awhile. Now you just rest, the others will be here soon."

"Let's go for a ride," Michael suggested, letting out a loud laugh. He probably wasn't in any shape to do that right now. If he didn't end up breaking his neck, which wouldn't heal for a halfling like it would if he'd fully turned, he'd definitely wreck his bike.

"You wanna wreck your bike?" He asked with a laugh, "you're not immortal yet."

The howling and laughter grew louder, then abruptly stopped. They were coming. David held Michael close, they would find them if they really wanted to.

"Daaaaaaveeeeeey!" Paul's voice echoed gratingly through the hotel, "we brought dinner, you lazy bitch!"

Michael brought a hand to his temples, "asshole is fucking loud. Giving me a headache." He shifted in David's arms, "hey, why don't we hide out? Bet they can't catch us."

David chuckled softly, "sure, why not?"

"You're not gonna need to stick around to-" Michael hesitated, "-eat, are you?"

"I doubt those assholes even brought me takeout in the first place." He grumbled, "but if you don't want me to eat in front of you I won't, tonight."

Michael smirked, a little dazed from the blood, and a little relieved, "then let's hide!"

David helped him up before pulling him through the hotel, looking for a place to hide. He had to admit this was entertaining, Michael's behavior, he looked forward to the boys finding them, because they would, eventually. They were predators. Hunting was their greatest strength. Though, in Paul's case, being an obnoxious asshole was a close second.

Stumbling over a fallen chunk of plaster that had likely remain undisturbed for decades, Michael snickered, feeling along the wall for an opening as his eyes began to adjust to the light in the darkness. "Hey, how about here?" He suggested, finding a warped door frame that defied the world by remaining firm, leading into an old room.

David pushed the door open, stepping into the old room. There was plenty of space to hide, "under the bed or in the closet?" David asked softly.

With a pensive, albeit drunken expression on his face, Michael looked back at David, "you think there's enough room for both of us in the closet?"

"I'm good at sliding into tight spaces." He said, pushing him toward the closet.

"Yeah?" Michael asked, grabbing Davids collar and tugging him closer as he backed towards the closet. "Prove it."

It was lucky for them Paul and the rest were easily distracted. Especially when a frantic screaming signaled that the meal they'd brought home had managed to escape.

* * *

It had been one of the worst mornings she'd ever had, and now confronting Michael was only making it worse.

"I opened the door and I didn't think. Saw that guy making out with some blonde on the boardwalk yesterday when I was job hunting, realized he was a sleaze and I decked him. Had to blow off some steam so I didn't kill the guy," Michael told her, irritable and unusually distant. He was turning into a different person right in front of her.

"Honey, are you alright? You, you don't sound quite like yourself." She held a hand to his temple and then forehead, checking his temperature, "please, you know you can talk to me about anything, anything at all."

"Did you even hear what I just said?" Michael demanded, not quite pulling away, but the scowl written on his face immovable, "the guy's an asshole."

"I'm more worried about you right now, Michael." She crossed her arms over her chest, "I'll deal with Max later but you're more important."

Michael, exasperated, let out a sharp breath. "I'm tired, I just need to sleep, mom." Maybe he was coming down with a cold.

"You do feel a little warm," she couldn't help her instinct to mother him, even if she was mad at him for punching Max, but if what he said was true, and he saw Max with another woman, well, she wouldn't be seeing him again. "Let's get you inside and into bed, you must be coming down with something."

"Probably," he replied, "can you tell Sam to let me sleep if he gets bored and needs a ride?"

She nodded, "I'll tell him." She scowled slightly, "Michael, your shirt's on backwards."

He tugged at his collar, examining the tag that was sticking out of the front of it as if it were some alien creature, "oh. Must've put it on like that last night…" he trailed off, pointedly avoiding eye contact that somehow seemed to imply he was lying. Well, it wasn't unusual for her son to have a girlfriend, but she'd have preferred not to have to connect the dots like this. "I'm going to bed," he told her quickly before they could launch into an uncomfortable discussion about safe sex neither of them really wanted to have.

There was something off about her eldest but she just couldn't figure out what. There was an air about him that spoke of another person entirely. A change in behavior like this wasn't something you could just hide from your family. It couldn't be drugs. He certainly wasn't picking up his father's personality. Maybe it was stress, or something had happened to him that he didn't want to tell her about. He just didn't seem like himself. He wasn't _Michael._ He wasn't behaving like her ex-husband either. She didn't know what to do, maybe he would be better after some rest, she could only hope.

* * *

That evening, before he went to the store or paid a visit to Lucy to check up on their arrangements for their next supper, Max got a call waiting message on his answering machine. He ignored the blinking red dot in favor of something altogether more disturbing. He'd felt David make an exchange of blood. Not Max's, either, but the boy's own. That was _not_ even remotely part of his plan, and it would have to be dealt with swiftly.

He was angry, practically storming into the old hotel. Five pairs of eyes looked at him as he entered. Five? There was a girl here, curled up at Dwayne's side. Ah, yes. The girl.

"So, tell me," Max began, lips drawn into a very practiced, tight smile despite his urge to grind his teeth, "what did you boys get up to last night?" He looked over to the main perpetrator of most of their activities, "David?"

David relaxed back in his wheelchair, "oh, you know, hunted, hung out with Michael, got Star to make her first kill, the usual." He looked so smug sitting there, as if he were a king.

Michael. That would be Lucy's older son who'd attacked him. "I see," Max replied, trying to appear as calm as physically possible. "I felt a change last night. I assume you exchanged blood, yes?"

"More than once," he said with a smirk, "Michael's a wildcat once you get him started he just doesn't stop."

If it was even possible, Max grew even more tense, " _well,"_ he snapped, "I'm glad to see you've finally moved on. I would prefer incest not become an issue in this family however, and I would also prefer you'd used _my_ blood, David." It wasn't too late to fix this. As long as Max could prevent any first kill before he got to Michael, he could provide more of his own blood to dilute David's. It would be unpleasant, but their bond would be strengthened, and perhaps it would snuff out the sense of rebellion all of his boys sported like medals of honor.

"Oh, Max, you remember Jasper, right? I just didn't feel as though using _your_ blood would do his memory justice. After all, you didn't want him."

"I apologize, David, I've never been able to quite understand your line of humor," Max said, removing his glasses to polish them with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, "explain, by all means."

A distinctly familiar voice interrupted their conversation, echoing from the lobby entrance, "I think you're smart enough to figure that out, _Max._ "

David smirked, "well, speak of the devil. Jasper, your timing is impeccable, as always."

Max turned around quickly, and all at once the others rose from their places, closing in on him. Even the girl who had yet to be properly introduced to him. A silhouette hovered over the steps, darkened by the dancing shadows of the fires. He stepped forward into the light, smirking.

"Jasper?" Max repeated the name, recognition finally dawning. Yet, he was…

"It's Michael now," the young man clarified, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a sharpened stake, "I told you I'd kill you."

David was the last on his feet, approaching Max from behind, "you made a huge mistake when you killed my partner but maybe we could consider it a boon. I mean, he's here now, and has no bond to you."

Perhaps it was shock. Perhaps it was disbelief. Or even a combination of the two. Max had never believed in anything beyond the simple immortality of a vampire. Rebirth, ghosts, all of that supernatural nonsense read like a fairy tale to him. To see the young man in the flesh, and to _know_ without a doubt this was the same person he'd killed and dined on nearly a century ago was too much, and in his right mind Max may have put up an admirable fight, but that wasn't happening today.

Michael, or Jasper, or whoever this young man really was, surged forward, his face twisting into a snarl as he held the stake with every ounce of strength he possessed, nearly splintering the wood as he thrust it deep into Max's chest. The pain of his wounded pride came nowhere near as horrible as the pain of death.

It was an unfortunate twist of fate, and perhaps a slight violation of the laws of physics that when Max's body exploded (as can sometimes happen), the remains only splattered on Michael, effectively ruining his clothes.

"Ah, fuck," Michael cursed.

* * *

He shouldn't have made a scene. Or he should have worn a poncho. Holy shit, Michael was never going to get the stench of dust balls and aqua velva out of his jeans. "How the hell?!" He began, tearing off his jacket and throwing it to the ground. If not for Marko and Paul's hysterical laughter, he might have stripped down to his underwear if he had to.

"Nice one," Marko snarked, dodging Michael as he very nearly tore his shirt off to throw it in the little imp's face. There was no question amongst them that he was Jasper.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes." David said with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest.

Michael glared at him, "thanks for the warning."

Star eyed the bits of Max that had somehow managed to simultaneously avoid the rest of them and Michael, scattered about the floor, "how many other vampires have you killed?" She directed her question pointedly at Dwayne, and Michael could gladly say any jealousy he might have felt before was gone. Otherwise he might've risked a little jealousy from David as well. It wouldn't have been pretty.

"Six, seven? A few. Max didn't like to get his hands dirty and we didn't like most of the idiots he tried to turn." Dwayne replied.

"There were a couple of accidents," Paul pointed out, "like the chick on the roller coaster. I liked her."

"And the twins at the bridge," Marko added, "shouldn't have pushed them before we got the flask out."

Paul shrugged, "thought we could catch them before they fell. David's the one who dropped it."

Michael shook his head, "you guys are making me feel very confident about deciding to go ahead and drink."

David chuckled, "I would always catch you if you fall."

Marko laughed, "sappy bastard!"

Smirking, Michael plucked at his gore-covered shirt, "I'm gonna need some fresh clothes and a bath. I don't wanna drive back to the house like this later."

"Come on, there are a couple tidal pools you can clean up in."

"Tidal pools?" Star asked, looking at Dwayne as she tucked an arm around his torso.

"There isn't really running water here, where have _you_ been cleaning up, Star?" David asked, heading for the opening in the wall that lead deeper in.

Star was silent for a moment, following close behind Dwayne and Marko, "the shower stalls at the beach," she said, a little self-consciously.

"How did you do that without making a scene?" Michael asked, a little astonished. Not like she could get much clean if she had a bathing suit on.

"I go at night when no one else is around."

Paul leered at her, earning himself a very stern glare from Dwayne, and not even remotely intimidated by it.

"What about clothes?" Michael asked. He was glad to have a place to bathe, but his clothes would be sopping wet when he drove home if he just washed them here and left them to dry in the dark.

"The laundromat usually but if we have to we use the pools." David explained, leading the way through the twisting halls and tunnels.

Oddly enough, Michael sort of felt like Alice in Wonderland, trailing through the crumbling hotel. He was sure Max was a huge factor here, but he couldn't help but wonder, _why had they stayed?_ Traveling at night wouldn't have been easy, but their lives together never had been. He missed those days.

Michael sidled up alongside David, finding the darkness of the tunnels as bright as day now, "you remember that fire you started? You still having problems with your matches?" It was hard to forget the night they'd tried to seek shelter from a storm in a barn, and David's need to smoke pretty much nixed it for them.

David chuckled softly, "got a lighter now, haven't set any barns on fire in years."

"Too bad," Michael teased.

"He set a bar or two on fire," Marko volunteered. "That was on purpose, though. Took ages for anyone else to open another one around here. Nowadays they get insurance, and that kinda spoils the fun."

David stopped at the edge of a series of pools. The tunnel opened up into a large cavern filled with tide pools, "we're here."

Paul was the first to dive in, though not on purpose. Without warning, Marko tripped him and cackled as the blonde hurdled head-first into a pool, too fast to stop himself.

Michael rolled his eyes, beginning to peel his shirt off. He seriously doubted there was any salvaging the thing, but he'd explain the stains away later if he had to. Maybe he could say it was spaghetti sauce. Or he'd played an impromptu round of midnight rugby.

Paul didn't retaliate against Marko when he popped up, no, he grabbed Michael's ankle and pulled him into the pool.

"F-" Michael began to curse, immediately cut off as he was submerged in surprisingly warm water. He scrambled for a hold on the ledge of the pool, blindly lashing out at Paul who'd deftly managed to swim away just in time. When he finally managed to surface for air, he reached for the nearest victim and pulled Dwayne tumbling into the water alongside him just as a peal of laughter in the group grew even louder. It wasn't long before all of them were in the pool, David pushing Marko in before grabbing Star and dragging her into the water with them.

Star came up sputtering, clinging to Dwayne, "that was mean!" She pouted.

"Can't play with the big boys, Star?" Paul snarked.

Scowling, Star scrambled over to the side of one of the pools and snatched up a small piece of rock, hitting a bullseye on Paul's forehead, eliciting a loud yelp as he dove back into the water.

"Now, children, if you can't behave I'm gonna have to separate you." David sounded oddly like his mother when he said that. Michael took the opportunity while David was distracted to lurch forward in the water and drag him under.

David yelped, grabbing at Michael in surprise as he was pulled down.

For the first time since he'd finished packing up the car to leave Phoenix, and in some ways the first time since they'd first showed up in Santa Carla so many years ago looking for a little cash and a place to lay low for awhile, Michael sort of felt like he was home again. Only this time he knew it really could last forever, and not remain a fleeting night stealing some poor sap's horses for a joyride while he was sleeping.

Michael sputtered, choking on a mouthful of salt water once he'd finally surfaced for air again, laughing as he smoothed back his hair, combing the last few flecks of Max's rapidly decaying remains.

"Asshole." David grumbled, "you know, I was thinking, maybe we should move on."

"Where?" Michael asked, swimming to the edge of the pool to lean against the earthen walls and catch his breath, "you have a laundry room or something down here too?"

He shrugged, "somewhere, like what we talked about doing before."

He didn't need to ask what David meant. "So, what, Mexico?"

"Might be a little hot down there, maybe north."

"Somewhere colder," Dwayne suggested.

"Alaska?" Marko asked,"I hear they got thirty days of night up there."

Michael smirked, "so how would we get there? Flying?" He could just imagine the looks they'd get. Not to mention what Paul's idea of the mile high club would probably entail.

"We could ride, they got roads up there!" Paul defended.

"Maybe Alaska is too far," David said, ignoring Paul, "anywhere you've always wanted to go, Michael?"

He shrugged, "Vegas seems like it'd be fun." Of course, the small matter of leaving his mom and brother behind might be a problem. Remembering who he was had changed him and Michael wouldn't pretend David and his old life didn't come first, but he still cared about his family. Enough to not want to rush into ditching them.

"Vegas sounds good to me." David said, climbing out of the pool and sitting on the edge.

Michael hoisted himself out, sitting beside him. He hadn't managed to pull his shirt off before being towed under, so he was forced to wring out the bottom to at least get _some_ water out. "That was fun," he remarked quietly, suddenly very hungry. The stomach twisting kind that gave you the feeling you'd get nauseous the second you tried to eat.

"Hungry?" David asked softly, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

There was no point in lying about it, so he just sort of shrugged, smirking faintly at David, "I guess."

"But you don't want to eat." It was a statement, not a question.

Michael shook his head, "no. Not yet."

Paul violently splashed water onto Dwayne and Star before quickly scrambling out of the pool with a cackle, "you don't know what you're missing, man."

"He's right but if you don't want to, I won't force you, but you're gonna have to deal with being hungry because food won't help." David said, laying back on the rock he was sitting on, looking up at the roof of the cave.

"I just need a little time," Michael replied, knowing full well he couldn't hold off forever. He wasn't sure exactly what would happen if he never fed, but something told him instinctually that it wouldn't be pleasant.

"We've got plenty of time." David replied, "I want to leave soon though, you're gonna have to say your goodbyes."

Could he trust Sam not to go crazy around his schizo friends? He'd have to.

"It'll be a long ride," Star observed, looking at Dwayne, "are you sure you can handle me holding onto you that much?"

Dwayne gave her a small smile, "are you sure you can hold on that long?" He questioned back.

Marko rolled his eyes, "why don't you two be like Mikey and Davey and just fuck and get it over with?"

Star bristled a little, glaring back at him silently. She didn't seem like the type for snide comebacks, but Michael didn't put it past her to do something nasty to Marko later. Making her kill had changed her in certain ways, but he didn't know her well enough to say exactly how.

"She's got a better chance at getting any action than you ever will, Marko," Michael replied, leaning back beside David as he waited for the cool cave air to dry his shirt. It'd be quicker if he just took it off, but he was comfortable right now. He didn't want to bother.

Marko gave him the finger, "asshole." He said good naturedly.

Dwayne climbed out of the pool, offering a hand to Star, and not even giving Marko a second look, "come on. We'll get you some dry clothes." This elicited a sharp whistling catcall from Paul.

"So, when did _that_ happen?" David asked, watching them go.

Marko shrugged, dunking his head underwater and resurfacing to smooth back his curls. He spat a mouthful of water into the air, "last night. The night before. Guess you were distracted."

David chuckled softly, glancing at Michael, "yeah, you could say that."


	6. The Last Regret

Lucy stirred her coffee, adding two spoonfuls of clumpy sugar into the mix. It had been a month since Max stopped showing up at work, two weeks since she's stopped receiving paychecks, one week since she's started hunting for a new job, and a little longer since she'd begun to truly worry about her eldest son. Michael had been distancing himself more and more recently. She had begun to see less and less of him and he was keeping odd hours. so now she was waiting for him to come home, a cup of coffee grasped tightly in her hands.

The faint sound of the screen door opening alerted her to his arrival. It was almost dawn. He didn't sneak up into his room, or even try to as she might have expected, but walked slowly into the kitchen as if he somehow _knew_ she was there.

He was silent for a moment, watching her, waiting. She used to be able to figure out his thoughts with a smile, but now?

"Did you wait up all night?" He asked.

"Yes, please, Michael, come sit with me. We need to talk."

There was a distinct reluctance in the way he stood, but he didn't turn his back on her. Thankfully.

"Okay," he relented, walking over to the kitchen table and pulling out a chair. He looked exhausted. He had dark circles around his eyes, and an empty look in them.

"Michael, what's going on with you? You're keeping odd hours, you look ill, please, talk to me. I care about you." She took a deep breath, "are you on drugs?"

"You've asked me before, and I already said no. I'm not on drugs," he said, not quite irritably, but with a final note that he wasn't even going to talk about the question anymore. "I haven't been eating much," he went on, relaxing a little. When had he suddenly grown up so much?

"Why? Please, talk to me, you've changed so much. What happened?" It was after the last time she had seen Max, were the two connected? Did Michael do something to him?

"I met somebody," he said simply, "some friends. They stay up late. It's the only time we can meet."

"School starts soon, you need to get on a more proper sleep schedule. These friends of yours, I'm not sure I approve of how much they're changing you and it isn't for the better." Worry had made her speak her mind, she couldn't just let this go on. "Michael, what happened to Max?" She asked firmly.

"Max is gone," he said, his tone flat and empty, "and I'm not leaving my friends." Coupled with the dark circles and pallid skin, his expression was almost chilling.

She swallowed hard but pressed forward, "did you have anything to do with what happened to Max? Did your friends? " she took a deep breath, "what are you going to do about school?" She never thought she would be afraid of her own son but part of her was, part of her looked at him and said run away, as fast as you can.

Michael reached across the table, taking one of her hands in his. His fingers were ice cold, and his nails desperately needed some filing. "We talked. I told him what I thought of him, and he was gone. That's it." His face had softened a little, looking more tired by the second, "I'm not going back to school."

She squeezed his hands tightly, not believing him for a minute about Max but not about to accuse her son of something worse. "Why? Michael, you need your education, you only have one year left."

He shook his head, "school's not for me. Never has been, mom. I want to do something else. Travel, maybe."

Was he leaving? "Travel?" She asked softly, "Michael…" she couldn't bring herself to ask him if he was actually leaving and how he was going to pay for any trip. She certainly wasn't going to help him with this.

He slowly released her hand, glancing over at the percolator by the stove, "any water left for coffee?"

She nodded, looking down at her cup. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to stop her son from making a poor decision and traveling down a dangerous road to possible ruin?

Michael smiled faintly, standing up and sauntering over to the counter to grab a cup and a spoon for the instant Folgers. "I know you can't tell, but I'm happy."

"You've changed so much." She said softly.

He slowly measured out his grounds, filling his cup with hot water and stirring. "Not as much as you think," he replied with his back turned to her, "I'm just myself, mom. My old self."

Old self? He had never behaved this way. "I don't understand."

He shrugged, turning back towards her with his coffee cup in hand, "I'm not sure I can explain it. Maybe someday."

"Michael…" what more could she say? He was stubborn, that hadn't changed, and she doubted she would be able to convince him of anything. "Try."

"You sure?" He asked, his smile fading, "you won't believe me."

She nodded, her fingers turning white from the force of holding her mug, "yes, I need to understand."

"Max was an ancient vampire who killed me in a past life when I was a horse thief, and I came back for revenge," Michael said flatly, before taking a long slurp of hot coffee.

It was probably the strangest thing she had ever heard but for some reason she believed him, deep in her soul she knew he was telling the truth. "You remember this? Being a horse thief?"

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "you believe me? Just like that?"

She nodded, "it is the most outrageous story I have ever heard but I can't help but feel you're telling the truth."

He took another sip of coffee, a contemplative look on his face, "you know I'm going to be safe. My friends look after me."

"You're leaving?" She needed confirmation, proof that he was actually going, "will we ever see you again?" Her voice was strained, she barely got the words out.

Michael nodded, "yeah. I am. You will." He placed his coffee cup gently on the kitchen table and knelt down in front of her, and it almost looked as if she was seeing him again. The Michael she knew. Her son. "I promise."

She finally let go of her mug before hesitantly reaching out and cupping his face with her hands, wanting to hold onto him. "When are you leaving?" She asked softly.

"Soon," he said softly, "I don't know exactly when. Just soon." It wasn't the answer she wanted, but it was nice to finally get something out of him besides an irritable mumble from underneath his bed covers or a hurried excuse in the evening before he rushed out the door.

"I love you." She said, her voice just as soft as his.

"Yeah," he gave her knee a gentle pat, "me too, mom." Then, just like that, he left her alone and headed upstairs to his room.

It was too early to make breakfast. Sam wouldn't be up for a couple of hours, and neither would the boys who'd come over to spend the weekend with him. They weren't exactly normal, from what Lucy had seen, but they were good kids. At least she could be happy for her younger son, knowing he was and always would be the same sweet boy.

"Better just let him go," a familiar, albeit groggy voice called out from the doorway, drawing Lucy's attention. Her father tightened his striped bathrobe and shuffled into the kitchen, "he's turning into one of them things. Better just let him go."

She scowled at him, "what do you mean? Dad, what's going on with Michael? What do you know?" She asked, picking up Michael's abandoned cup of coffee.

Her father scratched at his chin, settling down with a loud thump at one of the kitchen chairs. "Vampires, Lucy. Overheard you two talking. If he killed one, he probably did it with some help from a couple others. Because he's becoming one of them."

"How do you know?" She dumped out the mug, watching the brown liquid make its way down the drain.

"Don't sleep. Hardly eats. Smells like death. All the signs are right there if you're looking."

"There are really vampires here? It isn't some story he's making up? He really believes he's the reincarnation of some horse thief?" She asked, staring down at the sink.

"I don't know about that, now," her father replied, clearing his throat, "not much reason to lie, I guess. Santa Carla is crawling with vampires. Hell, you lift a rock and you'll probably find a couple under there like a nest of pill bugs. Can't seem to get rid of em."

"And Michael has chosen them over his family? Why?" She felt lost.

"Who's to say? Could be he didn't have a choice." There was a heavy pause, and for a minute she wasn't too sure he was still there until he spoke up again, "I don't think he chose them over us. If that was the case, we'd have been dinner. They don't think like people, Lucy. Leaving people alive ain't normal for them things."

"I should just let him go?" She asked, feeling tears in her eyes, "do you think he'll, eat, us?"

"You'd know." His tone was chilling, but the words were at least somewhat of a comfort. "Frankly, I doubt he'd be sleeping in his room right now if he was planning on that. You gotta let him go."

She nodded, barely holding back a sob that wanted to escape her throat. She sat down at the table slowly, "dad, can I have some root beer and Oreos?" She asked softly.

"Better get the double stuffed," he said gravely, standing up and shuffling to the kitchen. "You never know, Lucy. Bet you three to one he'll call once in a while." It was a small comfort but one that she would hold onto for as long as she could.

* * *

David rocked back and forth in his chair as he watched Michael's retreating back. He hated when he left, hated that every night, just before dawn, Michael would leave and return to his human family. Of course he would come back each night but he was slowly wasting away. The hunger was clawing at him, demanding its due but the stubborn bastard kept resisting. He wouldn't be able to last much longer, not without snapping and devouring everyone within sight. David knew he would have to get Michael to feed, one way or another, and soon.

Thorn let out a long, loud whine from his position nestled on the couch beside Marko, echoing David's own state of mind. It was just the three of them now. Dwayne and Star had gone to bed early, while Paul screwed around outside with some stupid shit ot another. Probably acid. He would have to corral the blonde back inside before sunrise.

"What's on your mind, Marko?" David asked, trying to distract himself.

Marko looked over at him, dragging fingers idly through Thorn's fur. He wasn't quite as upset as David or the hellhound, but none of them were exactly happy with the current situation. "I was just thinking," Marko began, stifling a yawn with a gloved hand, "Jasper never made anything easy for you. Even when he was just Jasper."

David nodded slightly in agreement, "he hasn't changed in that regard." He said with a snort.

"So, you remember what you used to do when he wouldn't listen? Just trick him, force his hand or something. Bring dinner around when he's not prepared for it." He smirked down at the dog as if Thorn knew exactly what he was saying. Nearly a hundred damn years, the furry bastard had to have picked up on a _little_ more than your average house pet, "he'll thank you later." There was potentially a reason Marko rarely got any action.

That might actually work but how to trick him into taking the last step, because it had to appear to be Michael's decision when he finally ate.

A sudden devious grin appeared on Marko's face, but like the little imp that he was, he remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself. An art he had mastered to everyone's utter frustration just as Paul had mastered the art of making sure everyone in the fucking universe knew what he was thinking.

David sighed, "what's your grand idea, Marko?"

The impish vampire looked up at the ceiling, "I don't know. I mean, it probably wouldn't work…"

"It certainly won't with that attitude."

"I guess you're right," Marko agreed, nodding sagely, "you'll just have to figure something out." He was almost a hundred and twenty, would a late stage abortion at this point be completely impossible?

David took to examining his nails, "well, guess Jasper will just have to waste away since his brother doesn't care enough to share his ideas."

Marko pouted, "just get on your knees and ask, why do you have to make this so hard?"

"Look who's talking."

"He'll probably kill if it's a big deal, alright?" Marko relented, since David wouldn't dance to his stupid tune, "so if he thinks you've been starving yourself too, that's all it'll take. The asshole died and came back, and is pretty much dying again for you. Shouldn't be that hard if you're convincing enough."

David looked thoughtful, "if this works I'll get you something good."

Marko grinned, "oh, it'll work. You wanna know why?" David just knew he'd walk into some stupid joke if he asked.

He sighed but asked anyway, "why?"

"Because you're both little bitches," Marko snarked, quickly scrambling off of the couch and away from the lobby before David could pelt him with whatever sharp or blunt object was close at hand.

David looked at Thorn, "you should go bite him in the ass so he can't sit down for a few days."

It was Thorn's turn to yawn now, stretching his jaw wide to show off two rows of sharp yellow-white teeth. Provided Marko hadn't roosted yet, the hellhound leisurely slipped off the couch and padded after him. Shortly thereafter David heard a loud, sharp scream. The dog really was smart.

* * *

He knew his time was running out. Hell, Michael had all but said as much to his mom that morning before seeking refuge in his bed from the heat of the day and his hunger. It had grown so strong, that it was all he could do _not_ to focus every single thought and breath on it. He wanted blood. _Needed_ it. Needed David. Giving in, though, there was no way to turn back once he did. So he bargained with himself for another day. Just one more day. Or a week, if he could manage. David would give him a week, wouldn't he?

Michael woke with the setting of the sun, but it wasn't easy. He felt sluggish, empty inside as he drug himself from bed and to his closet to get dressed. If he rode his bike to the boardwalk or the hotel tonight, it'd be a damn miracle.

"Mike? You awake?" Sam asked softly from just outside the door.

He had just finished tugging on a black t-shirt when he heard Sam, and was half tempted to slip out the window, but resisted. Maybe this would be one of the last days they really talked. "Yeah, come in," Michael called out.

Sam pushed the door open slowly, "you alright?"

He had to focus on shallow breaths through his mouth, or the scent of Sam's blood would tip him off that Michael wasn't quite human anymore.

"Yeah, just shaking off a cold, Sammy. You need something?"

"Just wanted to check on you, you've been a little, umm, off, lately."

"Have I?" He asked, trying to sound as if it was news to him.

"Yeah, you're sleeping all day, I don't think I've seen you eat in a week."

Michael highly doubted telling his little brother the truth would lead to anything good. "Well," he began, holding back a sigh, "that girl I met on the Boardwalk is a good cook."

Sam blinked at him, "what, you're spending all night with her? Why not during the day?"

"She's a night owl," he said simply. Better to just give a half truth than an elaborate lie. Michael reached for his jacket hanging over his closet door and slipped it on, "we have fun. You doing alright? Friends giving you any trouble?" A vivid thought struck him in that moment, and he wondered what those comic shop geeks would taste like. Probably better than they smelled. Michael quickly turned away from his brother, snatching his sunglasses from a jacket pocket and shoving them onto his face. He could feel the skin on his face itching, bones aching to shift so he could rend and tear flesh.

"We're fine, they say there's ghosts here, that they haunt the living." Sam said, scowling at him, "are you sure you're ok?"

"Fine. I'm fine," Michael waved him off, focusing on tamping down his hunger as best he could. It was getting harder. So much harder. "Listen, Sam," Michael slowly raised his head to look back at his little brother, "things are getting serious with her, so don't freak out if I move out for awhile, alright?" Jesus Christ, if they were into ghosts now, there was no telling what they were going to do. Hopefully they just stopped at taking pictures of old houses and coming up with bullshit about lens flares or dust bunnies.

"But, you're gonna be there when some dumb jock tries to put me in a trashcan, right?" He said with a scowl.

Michael shook his head, "but trust me, you just tell them your brother's one of the bikers here and they'll leave you alone if they know what's good for them."

In that moment, Sam did something Michael _never_ thought he would do. He launched himself at him and clung to him like his life depended on it.

"Sam—" Michael cut himself off, holding his breath. God, his little brother smelled like lunch. Hesitantly, Michael put a hand on Sam's back and patted it consolingly.

"I'm gonna miss you, asshole." He grumbled into his chest.

"Me?" Michael snorted, "you'll be too focused on all the weird nerdy chicks here to give a shit, just watch," he teased, ruffling Sam's hair.

Sam tipped his head up to glare at him, "you think there are girls for me here?"

"Could be," Michael said, "desperate ones, maybe." He cracked a grin, "you're gonna have an awesome year, Sam. Just look after mom, make sure grandpa doesn't stuff your dog, and maybe find some other friends." He knew he was asking a lot, but if Sam could accomplish at least two of the three things, he'd probably be alright on his own.

Nanook padded into the room, circling the pair once or twice before settling down behind Michael. He got an oddly defensive feeling and quickly pulled away from his brother, "I gotta go, Sam," he said hurriedly, dodging away from the dog as if at any second it was going to launch itself at him. Maybe it knew.

"Gonna be back tonight, Mike?!" He shouted after his retreating back.

If it weren't for the two weirdos in Sam's bedroom doorway peeking around the corner, Michael might have lingered to answer him, but he had to get out of here quick before he did something stupid—or at the very least make a huge mess in the house.

Michael pushed his bike to the very limits to get to the boardwalk, and when he got there he wasn't surprised to see all of them waiting by the rails. All of them except…

"Where's David?" He asked, looking around as he approached them.

"Stayed back at the hotel, he's not doing that great." Marko said, biting his glove.

Michael's eyebrows shot up, "what happened?" He demanded, looking around. Star and Dwayne were too focused on each other to pay him any attention.

"He stopped eating because of your stubborn ass, he's hungry."

"What?!" Michael exclaimed, "you guys brought like six chicks to the hotel last night!" No way in hell between the four of them they could have fed that much.

"Tried to force him to eat but he's as stubborn as you, if you won't eat, he won't."

Paul nodded, putting a hand on Marko's shoulder, "it's been rough, man."

"He looks and acts like he's fine," Michael pointed out, biting back a sudden wave of panic. Was David really starving himself?

Paul let out a snort, "fuck, you remember that time he got shot and we didn't know about it until the wound got infected and he almost lost his leg?"

"Shit," Michael cursed under his breath, "so he can't even ride?"

Marko shook his head, "he can barely stand."

That was all it took for Michael to immediately climb back onto his bike and head for the hotel, pushing himself even harder than he thought possible. His heart leapt into his chest once he'd managed to scramble from his bike and up the rickety steps to the hotel.

"David!" He shouted, reaching the lobby.

David was slumped in his chair, eyes closed. He looked paler than usual as he sat there unmoving. He didn't even acknowledge the fact that Michael was there.

Had they seriously just left him here like this?!

"David," Michael said his name again, running up to him and kneeling down to put a hand to his forehead. Of course the fact that he was always fucking cold made that pretty pointless. "Christ, wake up!"

David let out a soft groan, one eye opening slightly to look at him, "Michael? What're you doing here?"

If it were anyone else, Michael might've been easy on him, but as it stood he slugged David in the shoulder angrily, "what the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded.

"You weren't eating so I'm not eating. You gotta eat." He grumbled.

"Are you kidding me right now? That's not fair, David. Why didn't you tell me you were gonna pull something like this?"

"Figured if you saw the results you'd eat. We're partners, Michael, if you don't eat, I don't eat."

"So if I don't feed on someone, you'll just let yourself die?"

He shrugged, "not gonna eat until you do. Never went this long before, no idea what'll happen."

Michael let out a frustrated breath of air, pulling away from David to weigh what he'd said. Stubborn son of a bitch. "So if I eat," he began, gritting his teeth, "you will too? There's no other way?"

"Yeah, you eat, I eat. Didn't I just say that?" He asked, letting his eyes close again.

He stood up, offering an arm to David, "you're an asshole. You know that, right?"

"Takes one to know one." He said, taking his arm.

"Can you even make it to the door?" Michael asked, shouldering as much of David's weight as he could manage. In all honesty, he didn't feel too great himself.

"Could just have the boys bring us food if you're actually going to eat." He said, leaning heavily against him.

Michael shook his head, "no, if I'm gonna do this, I want to have a say in what-in _who_ I kill." He nodded towards the door, "think you can hold on and ride behind me?"

David glared at him, "you want me to ride bitch?"

"In your state, you're gonna have to," Michael pointed out. It was hard to hide his grin at the mental image of David riding behind him. "C'mon, it won't be that bad. I won't take any sharp turns."

"We never speak of this." He said firmly.

"Never," Michael agreed solemnly, just as they stepped out into the night. "Where to?"

* * *

Riding behind Michael was something he never expected to do. He had ridden with Jasper in the past, usually when he did something stupid, but a horse was different from a bike. He couldn't believe he had to do this but Marko was right, this was the only way to get him to eat.

"Toward the docks, there are a few homeless we can eat." He grumbled, claws digging into Michael's jacket, not puncturing the leather.

"You don't want to go a bit further?" Michael teased, his bike sharply piercing the evening fog. He was enjoying this too much.

David growled, "no." He said firmly.

Michael laughed, gradually slowing to a stop as they approached the beach. Far enough from the lights of the boardwalk to be seen, close enough to know they weren't alone. "Was that so bad?" He asked, kicking his stand out.

David stumbled into him and off the back of the bike, "yes, I should just keel over and die of shame."

Michael held out a hand to steady him, though the strength in the halfling seemed to be waning too. Another night might be too late. "I think you kinda liked it," Michael remarked, before scanning the beach ahead where water and shadows danced about the docks. There were a few sleeping shapes there. Passed out from too much cheap liquor, probably. Or just enough.

"Well, guess what, you're riding bitch on the way back." He said, stumbling toward the docks, "you see them?" He asked, eyes locking on the forms beneath the docks and ears tuned to the sound of their heartbeats, one of them had arrhythmia.

"Yeah," Michael rasped, his voice becoming harsh and gravelly. He must've been fighting his hunger pretty hard if he was already this worked with just a glance. "You pick first."

David motioned toward the closest one. The man was also the deepest asleep, hell, he might not even wake up once David bit him.

"Do you think you can make it there?" Michael asked, visibly shaking with the effort of holding himself back.

David waved him off, "I'll be fine, go get your own meal."

David watched him go, waiting for him to actually turn away from him. He didn't want to reveal that he was better than he appeared. He had starved himself for a couple days and was hungry, but he wasn't as weak as he looked.

In an instant, Michael tossed his jacket over his bike, and was across the beach, instinct guiding him faster than sight. He drug one of the sleeping men from the sand and greedily sank his fangs into him, painting the ground with blood.

David took a little extra time getting to his meal, more of a casual stroll than a hunger based stumble. With his eyes still locked on Michael as he gorged himself, he sank his fangs deep into his chosen victim's throat. He had known Michael would be perfect for this and he was right.

The cops in Santa Carla never went to the docks at night. In fact, they didn't do much of anything once the sun went down. That was one good reason it was so easy to find meals when they didn't feel like driving to the next city. They didn't have to worry much about the clean-up.

Finally sated, once he'd taken his second victim, Michael let him fall to the ground and leaned back against one of the poles beneath the docks, his change washing over him all at once. Without someone like Max to sour the experience, it was incredible.

David made his way over to the newly turning vampire, "feels good, doesn't it?" He asked softly, his lips close to his ear.

"Better than that," he admitted, sagging slowly down to the ground. There were nights he might eventually come to miss the sun, or pieces of his old life, but everything would pale in comparison to the euphoria of the kill. Michael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath he no longer needed and letting it out, "is it always like this?"

David crouched down next to him, "yeah, the rush, the euphoria, it never ends." He ran his fingers through Michael's hair, brushing it back from his face.

"I like it," he replied, opening his eyes to look back at David, "you weren't really starving, were you?" He asked wryly. Now that he'd finally killed, the guilt wouldn't factor in anymore. So he could only be so mad.

David smirked, "not as badly as I made it seem. I haven't eaten for a couple days so that's true but I wasn't so bad off I couldn't go hunting."

Michael peered out at the waves lapping the further edges of the docks, trickles of pink soaking into the surf from the blood drenched sand, "I thought it would hurt."

"Is that why you wouldn't eat?"

"Part of it," he admitted. "A few other things…"

He raised an eyebrow, "oh? What's that?"

Michael leaned forward, arms resting on his knees, casually basking in the afterglow of the meal. "When everything came back to me, all of the memories, they just felt like they'd happened yesterday. My life here turned into this weird distant blur, like it was even further back than the life we had together before Santa Carla. I just wanted to make sure before I let it go that this was the right choice." He looked back up at David, "I didn't want to have any regrets."

David leaned forward so their lips almost touched, "do you have any? Regrets?"

Michael draped an arm over David's shoulder, his mouth twisting into a half-smirk, "maybe one."

"And what's that?" He flicked his tongue out, licking his lips.

"Should've driven slower," Michael joked, "made you ride bitch a bit longer." He closed the gap between them.

The blonde returned the kiss with fervor. He had every intention of getting his revenge, Michael was going to ride bitch on the way back, one way or another.


End file.
